
GoipghtN°A^53_ 

COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 



TRAGIC DEAMAS 



SCOTTISH HISTORY, 



flESELRIG. WALLACE. 

SECOND EDITION.) 

AMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLA.^D. 



SDI.A^BURGH: THOMAS CONSTABLE AFD^ca 

HAMILTOX^ADAMS, AND CO., LONDON?^^^^^ ^% 



DCCCLIX. '^i 






KDlKB.;RtiH : T. TONSTABLK, PRINTER TO HKR MAJESTY. 



ADYEPiTlSEMENT, 



HESELEICt. 



This Drama formed originally part of another, that which 
follows it in the present volume, the Tragedy of Wallace. Of 
that Tragedy it constituted the first or opening act. But as 
it extended the play to an inconvenient length, and as besides 
it possesses an independent unity of its own, while the event 
to which it relates has no direct bearing on the catastrophe of 
the tragedy of which it formed a part, it has been judged 
advisable to detach it from its original connexion altogether, 
and to present it as a separate Drama of Two Acts. 

In the action of the drama some obvious liberties have 
been taken with exact chronology. Wallace, for example, is 
represented as being already Lord Warden, or guardian, of 
the kingdom. The precise time at which he acceded to this 
office is matter of dispute : but "there can be no question 
that it was posterior to that at which the incident in his his- 
tory that forms the subject of the drama- took place. And 
while, no doubt, the private wrongs and losses which his 
family and himself had experienced at the hands of the 
English, and above all that crowning outrage, the murder of 
his youthful wife by the Heselrigs, gave exasperation and 
intensity to the hatred with which, as a Scotsman, he was 



ADVERTISEMENT 



aiiiiiiated towards the invaders and oppressors of his country, 
it must not be inferred from the prominence unavoidably 
given to this element in the following drama, that it originated 
that sentiment in the breast of Wallace, or was required 
either to generate or to sustain it. Against Edward and his 
followers, who had made desolate his native Scotland, and 
were striving to reduce it to subjection as a conquered pro- 
vince, prompted by feelings of the purest patriotism he had 
already, even from his school-boy days, on many occasions and 
by many memorable acts, signalized his personal prowess, 
indomitable resolution, and inextinguishable hate. 

In the drama that follows, accordingly — the Tragedy of 
AVallace — this element, the feeling of personal revenge, dis- 
appears from view as a spring of action altogether. It is 
never referred to as the prompter to any act, or the producer 
of any event, in the public career of Wallace. The individual 
sufferer has now merged in the patriot leader, the avenger 
not of his own wrongs, but of his country's. 



WALLACE. ^ 

This Drama owes its publication, though not its composi- 
tion, to the accident of the movement which took place in 
Scotland dm'ing the summer of 1856, for erecting a monu- 
ment in honour of Sir William Wallace. 

The sudden outburst of enthusiasm for the Scottish patriot, 
and all that relates to his eventful history, encouraged the 
author to hope that the interest, so glowing and so general, 
then felt throughout Scotland, for the subject of his drama, 
might win " a listening ear for an assuming song,'" and 
enable him to cast his poet's mite into the treasury, in con- 
tribution to an act of national justice, laudable though late. 



ADVERTlSi!MENT. V 

The work was accordingly printed in haste, on a sudden 
thought, and hurried through the press a few days before the 
great meeting at Stirling, on the 24th of June. 

That in its construction and in its composition his perform- 
ance is unw^orthy of its great theme — and in the hands of 
Shakspere, what a theme ! — the author is deeply sensible. 
Would it were worthier ! But such as it is, he ventures to 
lay it reverently as his " stone on the cairn'' of Wallace. 



POSTSCKIl'T TO THE SECOND EDITIOX OF WALLACE. 

One moderately read in Scottish history cannot fail to be 
aware that the author has taken some liberties with chrono- 
logy in the order of events as represented in the following 
drama. 

He has antedated, for instance, the Wardenship of Wallace ; 
the flight of Bruce from England ; the battle of Roslin ; and 
the slaughter of Comyn at Dumfries. 

For these, and a few suchlike anachronisms, as well as for 
the version which, for dramatic purposes, he has adopted of 
one or two other facts that are in dispute, or in suspended 
acceptance among the writers of Scottish history, he pleads 
privilege and precedent as his justification. He was con- 
structing a poem, not composing a history. 

But a bolder and more questionable license is the part 
assigned by him to Joan de Valence in the action of the 
tragedy. For this he considers it right to state he has no 
warrant from authentic history, nor a hint, even, among the 
many apocryphal traditions so industriously collected, and 
recorded with an air of faith so undoubting. and a circum- 



VI ADYEKTISEMENT. 

.^tantiality of detail so picturesquely minute, by the blind 
minstrel- cbronicler in his Metrical History of^ Sir William 
Wallace. 

A doubt having been expressed by one of his critics in a 
respectable journal, whether the following drama be in form 
what in name it professes to be, a tragedy ; in regard to this 
point the author avails himself of the remarks of a friendly, a 
too friendly critic, in another journal. " Though in all con- 
science tragical enough, both in its course and in its close, 
this national drama is not constructed after the classic model, 
which exacts a rigorous adherence to the unities of time and 
place. It is rather a historical life-drama, so to speak, of the 
tragic kind. In this class of compositions, observance of the 
unities is out of the question ; nor, sooth to say, has our 
author attempted this, but exercised his poet's privilege to its 
full extent. He has, however, scrupulously conformed to the 
remaining kind of unity which, even in compositions of this 
kind, cannot be dispensed with, unity of action. He seizes 
on the more important, or, artistically viewed, the most effec- 
tive incidents in the career of Wallace. These he places 
before us in their most picturesque and dramatic forms of pre- 
sentment, and all of them are, in a manner more or less 
direct, m^de conducive to the denouement as co-efficients in 
causing or in quickening the catastrophe, the betrayal, oap-- 
ture, £ind execution of Wallace. "--/S^^/^^/w^ Journal, Tuesday, 
August 22, 1856. 

Considerable alterations in the arrangement of the parts, as 
well as in the composition of the pluy generally, have been 
inade in the present edition, 



CONTENTS. 



PACK 



1 . Heselrig : An Historical Episode Dramatized, in Two Acts, 1 

2. Wallace : A Tragedy, in Five Acts, .... 27 

3. James the First of Scotland : A Tragedy, in Five Acts, 135 



HESELRIG: 



IN TWO ACTS. 



gnimatis "^txnoxtK. 



Heselrig, Sheriff of Lanarh. 

Arthur Heseleig, .... His Son. 
Officers, Soldiers, Se. 



'William Wallace, .... Warden of Scotland. 
Sir John de Gr^me, 
Blair, . . 
Boyd, . . 

ElCCARTOUN, 

auchinleck 

Kerle, . . 

Stephen of Irelaiid 

Ellen Bradfute of Lamingtoii, Wife of Wallace 



\ Friends and Associates 
of Wallace. 



Scene — The town of Lanarh and immediate neighbourhood. 



ACT I. 



A WOOD I^^EAR LANAEK. 

(Enter Wallace and Sir John de GtR/eme, the former 
dressed as a peasant,) 

Grceme. Nay, prithee, Wallace, humour me in this ; 
I'll share it with thee. 

Wallace. Pardon me, De Graeme ; — • 

In many a bloody field, shoulder to shoulder, 
We've stood together, and I dare appeal thee, 
If ever I declined thy help, or grudged thee 
A comrade's half in danger or in glory. 
But then the cause was public : this is private ;^' 
It toucheth me alone as William Wallace. 
And if I perish, that's but reason more 
AYhy thou shouldst live. Scotland is not so rich 
In honest men and true, that she can spare 
The Graeme and Wallace on a single venture. ^ 

Gr. But the attempt is mad. There's not in Lanark 
Beldame or boy but knows Sir William Wallace. 
The garrison is strong : its governor 
Is Heselrig, thy deadliest enemy. 



4 JIESELRIG. 

It ill befits thee, Scotland's Lord High AVarden. 

To put thy life, and all for a boy's longing, 

Upon this desperate card, — a toying-tryste 

With some young light o' love. Ah, Wallace, Wallace ! 

Eschew these Dalilahs ; remember Perth. 

Wall. I do remember Perth, and therewithal 
A woman's weakness and a woman's strength. 
Weakness betrayed, and mightier love that saved me. 

Gr. When stung to frenzy by our late good fortune 
Our foe and would-be king, England's first Edward, 
Is posting northward with an host whose thousands 
O'ercrowd the Solway's sands, against poor Scotland, 
Blaspheming black revenge, — is this a time 
For love's light errantries? Bethink thee, Wallace, 
Thy life 's of too much value to thy country 
To be thus perilled for a wanton — 

Wall True : 

But for a wife, what 's too much to be perilled ? 

Gr. AVife ! Wallace ! Thou'rt not married, art thou ? 

Wall. Ay ! 

And fast as love and love's pledged vow can bind me, 
And good man's prayers, though not with bell and book 
Muttered in holy walls, but under canopy 
Of greenwood tree, and for my wedding trim 
Bonnet of steel and mailed habergeon. 

Gr. 'Tis known thou lov'st th' heiress of Lamington. 
Fair Ellen Bradfute, but I thought me ever 
Twas only par amours. 

Wall. Thou didst me wrong then, 

And Ellen more. The proudest peer in Scotland 
Burst not have woo'd her to unholy bed. 
In honest sort I loved, I woo'd, I won her : — 



HESELRIG. 

Blair gave the Church's warrant to our love ; 

And Heaven approving, crowns them with its blessing, 

In a sweet babe, repeats her mother's beauty. 

My visits heretofore (and hence thine error). 

Have been by stealth ; for Sheriif Heselrig, 

Who slew her brother that he might bestow 

Her hand and heritage upon his son, 

Herds her with dragon's watch, vexing her ear 

With hateful importunities, which hitherto 

She has contrived to parry, under plea 

Of mourning for her murdered relatives. 

But her stern jailer brooks delay no longer : 

He threatens violence. Thou know'st the man ; 

His threat is ever surer than his promise. 

But, Heaven to help ! this night unbars her cage. 

In Edward's spite, in spite of Heselrig, 

My captive linnet and her chick, to-morrow. 

Shall carol freely in their native woods ! 

Cxod keep thee, Grseme ! and grant us merry meeting. 

Gr. Amen, amen ! 

[Exit Wallace. 

Gr. (Solus ^) This business likes me not. 

Curse on these love-traps ! Let the devil or Edward 
Bait them with woman, like the simple school-boy 
For a sour pippin ventures life or limb, 
Wallace will into them. I'll to the Cartlans 
And warn our friends ; we must be on the tiptoe 
To watch the upshot. 'Tis a harebrain's venture. 



HESELRIG 



ttnt ^ttoxx^. 



LANARK. 



(The Castle Gate. Two English Soldiers looking over the 
icall near the gatewa:^.) 

1 Sold. Mark Hubert, what a burly Scot comes here ! 
Didst ever look upon a broader chest, 

A brawnier arm, a step more stalwart — free ; 
What would King Edward give for such a soldier ! 

2 Sold. Now, by St. Cuthbert, 'tis a proper fellow ! 
Let 's have some sport with him. 

(Wallace enters advancing towards the gateway^ 

Hallo, Scots hound ! 
What name dost answer in thy kennel to ? 

Wall. I'm Sandy Samson from the Upper Ward. 

2 Sold. I will be sworn thou'rt o' that family, 
If there be faith in thewes. I hope, good Samson, 
Thou com'st not here to slay the Philistines. 
Art thou a butcher, Samson, or a smith ? 

Wall. Neither, Sir Englisher ; I am a miller, 
Th' miller of Lamington. I pray thee, help me 
To private speech with Mistress Ellen Bradfute, 
The daughter of our umquhill laird. Sir Hugh, 
And now our lady. 

1 Sold. , But, friend Samson, tell me 



HESELRIG. 

Wliere didst thou steal that goodly coat of green. 
That thou art graithed in ? 

Wall. The good mutton grev/ it, 

Fed on Scots grass ; and the brave webster wove it, 
Owned ne'er an English master, 

1 Sold. Know'st thou, rascal, 

Thy neck 's in danger for that rebel colour ? 
I'll make thee doff it ; 'tis the badge of Wallace, 
And all who wear't are of that outlaw's party. 

JVall. Then, thro' broad Scotland are our bonny knowes, 
Our sunny braes, our haughs, our birken shaws, 
All of his party ; they are graithed in green. 

1 Sold. 'Ware thee of treason, master John a' Gi-roats ! 
Dost thou forget the Sheriff Heselrig 
Is governor of Lanark, and King Edward 
Scotland's Lord paramount ? 

Wall. I've heard he says so. 

I've also heard, there is some other king, 
Who brags himself own brother to the moon ; 
I prithee, is King Edward of that family ? 

1 Sold. Thou rascal, Scot, would I were 'longside of thee 

Wall. Then let me in, and thou'lt be so belive. 

1 Sold. I will : but, by St. Cuthbert ! that fair whinyard 
That 's at thy girdle, and that 's much too good 
For such a loon, I'll break it o'er thy pate 
The moment thou comest in. 

Wall. Grod's will be done ! 

But let me in. 

{The gate is opened. Scene changes inside the ivalls.) 

1 Sold, {to Wallace as he enters.) 

Give me thy whinyard, rascal ! 



>> HESELKI6. 

Wall. It is mine own. 

1 Sold. And shall be mine. Who shall 

Forfend it, Scot ? 

Wall. St. Fillan and this arm. 

1 Sold, [attempting to wrest it from him.) 

Thy whinyard, dog — slave — rebel ! 
Wall. Dog and slave ! 

Then, if I must, I must. Take this — and this — 
iVnd AVallace's goodwill and blessing with it, 
That need no repetition. 

(First soldier falls.) 

2 Sold. Ho, comrades ! fast the gates ! Wallace is here ; 
The dog -wolf 's in our trap. 

(Exit Wallace tjito the town. Enter English Soldiers.) 

Sold. A prize! a prize ! 

A bounty 's on his head — I'll try for it. 
<Told-salve for broken bones ! 

Other Soldiers. And I ! And I ! 

[Exeunt after Wallace 



A STREET IN LANARK. 

[Enter W allace, followed bi/ English soldiers whom he keeps 
at hay, and who., on his offering to charge them^ fall back 
out of view.) 

Wall. There 's no retreat this way. Must I to wall 
And stand at bay. or carve me pass a thorough, 



HESELRIG. y 

And make for earth elsewhere ? Methinks ere now 

With this same tool I 've switched a thicker hedge 

And made a gap in 't. Let me try. Ha ! more of them ! 

[Enter Arthur Heselrig, with a strong party of soldiers.) 

A. Hesel. So thou art here at last ! We have thee, outlaw. 
The lion's in the toils ; the hide is ours. 
Surrender, Scot ! 

Wall. Surrender, Englishman ! 

What ! with this friend to boot (waving his svjord), and not 

a scratch, 
A skin-deep scratch, got from my hunters yet ? 
The lion's hide is somewhat tough and tanned, 
Not soft and sleek as priestly Cressingham's ; 
And he this day that would a belt of it, 
I give him well to wit must sweat for it ; 
He '11 count his pains more than his pennyworth. 

A. Hesel. Ha ! Cressingham ! I thank thee for the watch- 
word ! 
It was a savage deed ! Thy skin this day 
Shall dearly pay for Treasurer Cressingham's. 
Why stand ye thus aback ? Advance and seize him ! 
Are ye afraid ? 

Sold. 'Tis William Wallace. 

A. Hesel. Were it Beelzebub, 

He is but one, and ye are full two hundred. 

Wall. St. Andrew to the charge ! 

(Wallace rushes forward, Heselrig and his men make a 
precipitate retreat across the stage. A casement opens, and 
a voice is heard from above) — 

Ho, W^allace ! Wallace ! 



10 HKSKLRTG. 

Wall. My guardian angel in mine Ellen's form — 
Ell Calls thee to sanctuary ; haste, Wallace, haste ! 

(She beckons him earnestly towards the door of the house, 
ivhich opens. Wallace rushes in, and it is immediately 
closed. Heselkig and his party rally, and return upon the 
stage.) 

A. Hesel. iShame light upon ye, cowards ! flee from one ! 
What will my father and Sir Robert Thorn 
Say, when they hear of this ? But where is Wallace ? — 
Wallace ! I do believe it was the Devil ! — 
Where, how, did he escape ? There is no outlet, 
Yet seemed he flesh and blood. 

1 Sold. I saw him enter 
That doorway there. 

2 Sold. And from the upper casement 
A fair young lady beckoned him to enter. 

A. Hesel. That door, fellow ? It is impossible ; 
'Tis Ellen Bradfute's house of Lamington, 
And no young lady lives there but herself. 

1 Sold. I'll take mine oath on 't, sir, I saw him enter. 

'2 Sold. And Sir Hugh Bradfute was the friend of Wallace. 

A. Hesel. Ha! true, he was — (knocks violently, no one 
answers') — helpers and harbourers both 
The rebels, sire and son. Then force it, fellows ! 

(After considerable efforts the soldiers succeed in breaking 
open the door., hut keep back as afraid to enter ^ 

The bravest follow me ; the rest keep watch 
That not a mouse may pass without your leave. 

[Exit into the house with part of his followers. 



HESELRIG. 11 



THE GOVEENOE's HOUSE. 

(Enter Heselrig, Arthur Heselrig, and other officers.) 

Hesel. Impossible, Arthur ! I'll not believe it. 
Within the gates '.—two hundred men^ — and Englishmen— 
And yet escape ! 

A. Hesel. I fear 'tis even so, sir. 

But how- — when-^ — where' — -within the walls of Lanark 
There's not a rat's hole we have left unsearched. 

Hesel. Our late misfortunes at Kinclaven Castle 
And Stirling Bridge, have turned the rebels' heads ; 
And now 'tis rmnoured publicly that Lennox, 
The Douglas, and some other factious barons, 
Met at the Forest-kirk, have chosen Wallace 
Warden of Scotland. 'Tis a cursed chance ! 
Would I had been at home ! The richest earldom 
In all broad Scotland had been glad exchange, 
In Edward's eye, for this one prisoner. — 
But here 's the traitress— his accomplice, looks 
The fawn, but is the fox- — 

{Enter Ellen Bradeute, guarded hy a party of soldiers?) 

Demure hypocrisy! 
Where hast thou hid the traitor ? Answer quickly, 
Or by this sword thou diest ! 
Ellen. I've hid no traitor. 



\'l HESELRIG. 

Hesel. Where's William Wallace ? 

Ell. Blessed Heaven, I thank thee ! 

He is in safety. 

Hesel. Thou avowest it, then? 

And vauntingly thy treason ? 

Ell. I avow 

My love for Wallace. 

Hesel. What ! Thy love for Wallace ! 

Thou brazen harlotry ? dost thou proclaim thee 
An outlaw's minion ? 

Ell. No, Sir G-overnor ; 

My love I own, but scorn thy commentary. 

Hesel. Deceitful witch ! thy life, thy lands, are forfeit ; 
Thy treason dooms thee to an instant death ; 
And instant thou shalt have it. Gro make ready 

{to an officer) 
Straight for her execution. 

A. Hesel. Sir, T pray thee. 

Touch not her life. She has had wrongs from us. 

Hesel. Wrongs ! Foolish boy ! thy love has turned thee 
dotard, 
Hadst thou the spirit of a man, thou'dst hate her. 
Didst thou not hear her openly proclaim 
Wallace thy rival, and exult that she 
Had foiled thy search, and saved her paramour ? 

Ell. I do exult that I have saved my husband. 

All. Thy husband! 

Ell. Yes, my husband. I'm the wife, 

Loving and loved, the wedded wife of Wallace. 
I 've saved his life with sacrifice of mine, 
And count the ransom nothing. 

Hesel. Hear'st thou that. 



HESELRIG. 18 

Sir lover ? Art thou still her pleader ? or 
Hast itch o" the flesh defies the decalogue ? 

A. Hesel. Sir, I demand her instant execution. 
I will myself conduct her, and make sure 
She drees the doom her treason has deserved. 

Hesel. A moment stop. Thy life, on one condition, 
Is yet thine own. Reveal to me the place 
Where Wallace is in hiding ; bring me on him 
On the unware attended. Do but this. 
Thy forfeit life is thine. Nay more, do this. 
Thou shalt, from kingly Edward, have reward 
Befitting kingly hands. All this I promise 
Upon my plighted honour as a knight. 

Ell. Sir Governor, were Edward's self, thy king, 
Queenless and young, — were he, with lowly suit. 
To cast his sceptre at my feet, and profier 
His hand, his bed, his crown, on such conditions 
I 'd spurn the proff"er and the profi"erer, 
And cast on him the scorn I cast on thee. 
Honour and knighthood ! saidst thou? shame to- both ! 
Would bid a wedded wife betray her husband ! 
little hast thou known, and less deserved 
A wife's fidelity, a woman's love. 

Hesel. Away with her to instant execution ! 

Ell. I go, last victim of a murdered race ; 
Mine aged father, and my only brother. 
With bloody hands abeady hast thou butchered, — 
Me sparing only for my helplessness. 
And sparing for a season. my child ! 
Thou orphan's babe, too soon, I fear, to prove 
An orphan's orphan, from thy race's blight 
Heaven shelter thee, thou last surviving blossom 



14 HESELRIG. 

Of a once flourishing and goodly tree ! 

And Wallace ! Wallace ! thou gentlest heart 

That ever beat within its mask of mail, 

Till now divided by a double love, 

I set thee free, and make thee all thy country's. 

Hesel. Away with her ! [She is carried off.) 



%ttnz 4fift^. 

BARONALD WOOD NEAR LANARK. 

[Enter D^s^ GtR^me, Blair, Boyd, Adam Wallace of Riccar 
toun, Auchinleck, Kerle, and Stephen of Ireland.) 

Or. Nay, nay, be not impatient, Adam. Wallace 
Is wise as he is wight. He waits the gloaming, 
The lover's hour of theft as well as tryste. 
He is no novice at a love adventure : 
He 's served, thou know'st, a Perth apprenticeship. 

Riccart. Would that apprenticeship had lesson'd him : 
St. Johnstoun miracles are not for ever. 
Besides, 'tis past a doubt there 's been some tumult 
In Lanark streets : and where fell fight or fray 
Where Southrons hive, and Wallace out of it ? 
I fear me all 's not well. 

Auchin. Nay, Adam, nay, 

He knows we're not far off; and were our cousin 
At deadly need, his bugle's blast would warn us — 
Let 's near the walls, however — 

{Passing Bell heard in the distance.) 
Hark ! what 's that ? 



HESELRIG. 15 

Riccart. The passing bell. Did I not guess aright ? 
That signal knells it for his execution. 

Gr. Nay, all the saints forfend it, Adam ! List ! 

[Bell heard again.) 

Blair. The youth says true ; that is the Sheriff's music, 
Plays daily prelude to his butcheries. 

Gr. The death-bell, say'st thou, Blair ? 

Blair. There 's no mistaking it ; 

Some life doth pass but now. 

Gr. Wallace ! Wallace ! has it come to this ? 
Has that right arm, that from the tyrant's clutch 
Wrested, in foughten field, a nation's liberties — 
And that good sword, whose every sweep made room 
At Stirling Bridge, hollowing a path for us 
Through proud De Warrne's proudest chivalry — 
Failed thee at need at last ; and in a broil, 
A petty broil like this ? 
Had I but followed thee, despite thy wish, 
Perchance we might — at least we'd died together. 

[Bell heard again.) 

Riccart. Again, all is not over yet. To Lanark, friends ! 
To the rescue, all ! 

Gr. Too late, I fear, to the rescue. 

But not to the revenge, Scotland's revenge 
On Scotland's foe, most hated, most accursed. 
On Heselrig, the murderer of Wallace ! [^Exeunt. 



END OF ACT I. 



16 



IIESELRIO. 



ACT 11. 



NEAE THE AVALLS OF LANARK. 

(Enter De Gr^me, ^c. ^c, as in the preceding scene.) 

Gr. Mark yonder figure ! With a port erect, 
A firmer step did he but move, I'd say 

'T was Wallace self. It is ! Thank Heaven ! thank Heaven ! 
'Tis Wallace self. But what has stirred him thus? 
Is he distraught ? With clenched hands upraised 
To Heaven in ecstasy now walks he forward 
Fiercely and hurriedly : and then, anon. 
Stops suddenly, and with his hands and mantle 
Covering his face stands motionless. Withdraw.— 
This is a gTief whose utterness avoids 
Condolence or communion. Have we holy 
His passion's privilege, and unbespied. 

[They retire.) 

(Wallace enters slowly, covering his face ivith his hands and 
mantle. He stands still, sobbing audibly ; then, by a 
strong effort recovering himself, he uncovers his face.) 

No more ; no more ; Ellen ! my wife ! 

My murder'd, martp'd wife, who diedst for me ! 

In tears of weakness, and of earthly dew, 



HESELRIG. 17 

Thou hast been wept enough. Thou shalt be wept 
Henceforth in tears of blood ! Ha ! my friends here ! 

[Looking out.) 
They must not see me thus ; they must not know 
How much in heart the Wallace is a woman. 
I must assume the green and tranquil surface, 
And hush the red volcano heaves beneath it. 

[Advances to them.) 
My friends ! 

[Crowding round him.) 

All. Thank God, thou 'rt safe ! 

Gr. But where is Ellen Bradfute ? 

Wall. She 's dead ! 

Gr. Dead, didst thou say ? Dead, Wallace ? 

Wall. Ay! 

She has been done to death by Heselrig. 
Did ye not hear her knell ? 

Gr. Merciful Heaven ! 

Young, helpless, orphaned ! wolf-hearted villain ! 
Thou shalt let blood for this. 

Wall. He shall, De Grraeme, 

[Grasping De Grceme's hand eagerly.) 
And that right sudden, too ; or e'er the ghost 
Of her he murdered can revisit earth 
With her pale vision, to spell-blast his day 
And haunt his night with horror. 

Gr. Till 't be done 

This sword in sheath, this head upon a pillow, 
I swear shall never rest. But how befell it ? 

Wall. All thi'o' my rashness and fool-hardihood : — 
I quarrelled with a soldier at the gate, 
And drew a tumult on me — was discovered — 



18 HBSELRIO. 

Pursued — suiTounded — in extremity — 

When Ellen saw me, and with woman's love 

And prompt invention, beckoned me to enter 

The gateway of her dwelling. This defence 

She for a time, assisted by her women, 

Made good 'gainst my pursuers. The meanwhile 

I fled me to a well-known sanctuary. 

Which baffled all their quest. It was a vault, 

With cunning masonry, made for my safety 

In our first days of love : part of a monument 

Raised, with permission of the governor, 

By Ellen, to her brother's memory, 

Within her garden, by the city Avail 

Where it is loAvest, and some ancient oaks 

Throw a convenient shadowing over it. 

A garden ladder, on our nights of tryste, 

Hid "mid the branches of the bushiest oak, 

Conveyed me thither. — 

that this day I ne'er had entered it ! 

For then, sweet Ellen, thou hadst not been murdered ! — 

Her trusty maid came at the shut of eve. 

As we had fixed, to signal my escape. 

'Twas my mfe's prayer (she said), that for this night 

1 should not tarry, but go forth the walls. 

I questioned her of Ellen. She replied not, 
Till she had seen me safe without the walls. 
Then, bursting into tears, she told me everything. 

[Hides his face in his mantle, overcome hy his emotioin 
Gr. Let 's to the west forthwith, summon our friend.s. 
'Leaguer the town, take it by main assault, 
And o'er the gateway, on the gallows-tree, 
Hang sire and son, these caitiff Heselrigs. 



HESELRIG. 19 

Wall. We 're quite enough to do the deed ourselves. 
The men of Lanark, as mj guide reported. 
Olubbing in nooks, were muttering fearful curses, 
Ripe at a word to rise on Heselrig. 
She carries my instructions to their boldest. 
At midnight ladders will be laid for us 
At a set place, and brave hearts waiting us. 
Meanwhile, go snatch your soldier's hasty meal, 
'Twill bo a busy night. 

[^Exeunt all hit Wallace. 

Wall. Thus far, before my friends, 

I've played the Roman ; but I can no more. 
Ellen ! art thou dead ? Those lips that mixed 
Their rosy warmth with mine, — those eyes, alight 
With life and love, that beaconed me to safety 
But two short hours agone, — all cold and quenched ! 
And for a martyr's faith hast thou received 
A felon's doom? Out, thou avenging minister ! 

[Drawing Ms sword.) 
While here I swear thou never shalt be sheathed 
In peace or mercy to these murderers : — 
That never shall I doff the trim of war — 
That never shall I press a wedded pillow — 
Never to Southron come to years of strife, 
Save priest or woman, shall I quarter give ; — 
Never from Southron shall I quarter crave, 
Till Ellen be avenged and Scotland free : 
And Heaven so friend me as I keep this vow ! [Exit. 



20 IIESELRTG. 



Semite ^etojib. 

L4NA11K NIGHT APARTMENT IN THE GOVERNOR'S HOUSE. 

[Enter Heselrig disordered and partly dressed.) 

Hesel. 'Twas horrible ! I will no more to bed ! 
For worlds that dream I would not dream "t again ! 
That face so fair, so ghastly, ever beckoning me 
On to the gallows-tree ! Oh, every lineament 
Hath trenched its likeness in my memory, 
And it will never out ! {Shouting heard without.) 

Merciful heaven ! 
More horrors still ! Is it the day of doom ? 

{Enter Arthur Heselrig hastily^ 

A. Hesel. sir, are you up? — 'tis time — we are betrayed — 
The town 's on fire : the citizens a-foot 
And shouting vengeance. 

Hesel. Saidst thou the citizens ? 

A. Hesel. I deem so ; for I hear your name repeated. 
And Ellen Bradfute's, mixed with yells for vengeance. 
Ah ! sir, that deed cries loud to Heaven against us ; 
I fear me we shall rue it. 

Hesel. It is done, boy. 

Nor must it stand in question. Rouse the garrison : 
Summon Sir Robert Thorn to our assistance : 
This house is strong : I 've guards will keep at bay 
The rabblement the while : haste by the secret postern. 

[Exeunt. 



HESELRIU. 21 



THE STREET, IN FRONT OF THE GOVERNOR'S HOUSE. 

(Wallace, with a few followers, attempting to force the door^ 
which is massive and resists their efforts.) 

Heselrig {from above). 
Ho ! what deray is this ? What mean ye, villains ? 
Whom seek ye ? 

Wall. We seek hangman Heselrig, 

To do the hangman's office on his neck. 

Hesel. Ha ! rascal ! who art thou ? 

Wall. A knight of Scotland. 

Hesel. Is it a knightly deed, thus like a felon 
To steal upon us at the hour of sleep ? 
Is this an honourable deed of knighthood ? 

Wall. Talk not of honour or of knighthood, wretch ! 
Was it a deed of honour or of knighthood 
To execute a woman ? Pitiless coward ! 
That dipped'st thy butcher hands in innocent blood — 
A woman's blood ! Thou art not man but beast, 
Nor hast a claim to human privilege. 
Prepare for doom : I am thy victim's husband : 
Thou hast thy choice, — in to thy byke and burn, 
Or forth to render thee, and hang. 

Hesel. Wallace ! ha ! (Aside.) 

Render and hang ! I am an Englishman, 
x\n English knight, and dost thou talk to me. 
Thou rascal Scot, of rendering and of hanging ! 



Tl HESELRIG. 

Wall. Felon thou art, a felon's death thou diest ! 
Thy presence trebles that 's in me of man, 
And thus I reach thy den — 

(Bursting open the door and rushing iii.) 
Now Ellen ! Ellen ! 

(Tumult heard within, dashing of swords, ^c, Wallace 

comes forth dragging with him Heselrig disarmed and 

luounded.) 

Hesel. I'm wounded,— dying ; whither wouldst thou drag 
me ? 

Wall. Even to that gallows thou hast fed so fat 
With human holocaust, the blood of Scotland. 
Cruel and cowardly hath been thy life ; 
Thou must not grace it with a soldier's end : 
^Murderer of Ellen Bradfute, to thy reckoning ! 

(As he is dragging Heselrig across the stage, enter Arthur 
Heselrig and soldiers.^ 

A. Hesel. Ha ! I am come in time. Rebel ! assassin ! 
Unhand thy prisoner, and defend thyself. 
Father, 1 come — 

Hesel. Arthur, thou comest too late 

To save my life. Oh, that horrific vision 
Is working its fulfilment ! But thou livest. 
Where is Sir Robert Thorn ? 

A. Hesel. Boasted to death : 

His house a ruin, and himself a cinder ! 

Hesel. Then was that horrid dream in aU its horrors 
True prophecy; and thou too, Arthm' — Oh ! (Dies.) 

A. Hesel. Vaunt not thy triumph over those grey hairs. 
Vile Scot ! but turn thee to more equal combat. — 



IIESELRIG. 2o 

Thy flight once saved thee from this arm to-day : — 
Thou hast no Rahab now to harbour thee, 
Ellen of Lamington — 

Wall. Is dead ! is murdered ! 

One of her nmrderers lies there before thee. 
I thank his cruel providence, the gallows 
Is roomy, 'twill accommodate the other. 
Ellen, this for thee ! 

{Bushes on Artiwr H^SELniG ; they fight; HESELRiG/a//s.) 

A. Hesel. He hath struck home ! 

Soldiers, tivenge me ; seize upon the rebel ! 

{Enter Sir John de Q-rmisye^ followed hy a crowd of armed 
citizens?) 

Gr. Seize on the rebel ! see the goodly crop 
Of rebels ye have reared, ye bloody Hesebigs ! 
See how they troop, these grateful Lanarkers ! 
Already they have set the Thorn a blaze 
To show their love to you ; and it burns bravely ! 

{Shouting without.) 
Hark to these joyous shouts ! Had Ellen Bradfute 
A dirge like this ? so gay a funeral ! 

Wall. Dying or dead, off to the gallows with them ! 
This tree that daily they made groan with victims. 
Let its last load be its own plenishers, 
Then burn the accursed wood, that nought remind 
Enfranchised Scotland of her servitude. 

{English soldiers flee, followed hy Wallace, De Gtr.^me, ^c.) 



24 HESELRIO. 



THE CROSS OF LANARK. 

{Enter Wallace, De Gr^me, t^c, attended hy a crowd of 
citizens.) 

Wall. men of Lanark ! ye have earned hereby 
A glorious name among your country's worthies. 
There's not a taskmaster draws brand or breath 
Within your walls. But the usurper Edward 
Is hasting on, with scores of Heselrigs, 
Ready to rich you for the two are slain. 
We must not here abide, nor to his mercy 
Leave aught that has in it the blood of Scotland. 
Bestow your helpless in some place of safety : 
Our forests and our mountain fastnesses 
Are still, thank God ! our own : And while these mountains 
Lift high to heaven their unsubjected brow, 
Free as the wind that plays at list around them. 
The land they look on shall be free — we swear it ! — 
Or but a garth of graves ! AU then can wield 
Buckler and brand — all that have soul and sinew 
To strike for Scotland's freedom, on with me 
To the Torwood, where of our best and bravest, 
With good Earl Malcolm, Comyn, and the Stewart, 
Are met to give the invader Scottish welcome. 
Go make ye ready. We shall meet ere long — 



IIESELRIG. 25 

Kemember, friends, Torwood 's our trysting place ; — 
Arid let our watchword be — 

Citizens. " Wallace and Liberty !" 

[Exeunt citizens. 

Wall. Once more, kind Blair, love's holiest task, the last, 
Debarred myself, I delegate to thee — 
My Ellen's bones to lodge in holy ground. 
With holy rites, within Dunfermline's fane, 
Where thou before didst lay my sainted mother. 
My nephew Haliday, with Auchinleck, 
Will be thine escort thither. 

Come, De Grrasme, 
One long last look at my poor murdered Ellen, 
Then. Scotland ! I am thine, wholly and ever. [Exeunt. 



THE END. 



WALLACE; 

IN FIVE ACTS. 



nV.V ! TANTU PRO CIVK CINIS, PfiO FINIBTS URNA EST 
AT VALINE IN CUNCTAS OEAS, SPARGUNTVa ET HORAS, 
LATiDES — 



gramatis ^^rsainr. 



ENGLISH. 

Edward I., King of England. 

Ax-MER DE Valence, .... Earl of Pembrohe. 

Ealph de Monthermer, . . . Earl of Gloster. 
Earl of Hereford. 
Eakl of Lincoln. 

Winchelsea, Archbishop of Canterhiiri/. 

Anthony Bek, Bishop of Durham. 

Sir Peter MALLORy, .... Lord Chief- Justice of England. 

Sir John Segrave, Acting Grand-Marshal of England. 

Sir Geoffry Hartlepool, . . Recorder of London. 
Sir Robert de Clifford. 

SCOTS. 

Egbert Bruce, Earl of Carrich and Annandale. 

Sir William Wallace, . . . Wai^den of Scotland. 

Sir John de Comyx, . . . . Earl of Badenach. 

Malcolm, Earl of Lennox. 

Sir John Stewart, Lord Bonkill. 

Macduff, Uncle of the Earl of Fife. 

Sir John de Menteith. 

Sir John de Gr^me, Moray, 

LuNDY, Lauder, Boyd, Blair, 

RiccARTOUN, AucHiNLECK, Ste- ] Fricnds of Wallare. 

PHEN of Ireland, Kerle, and 

David Wylie, 

Sir James Lindsay, .... \ Pr' ends of Bruce 

Sir Roger Kirkpatrick, . . / ' 

Sir Robert Comyn, . . Uncle \ . .i r> i r -n i i 
r. T n n ' ft<^ fhe lutro of hadenach. 

Sir James Comyn, . . Cousin ) 

Abbot of Cambuskenneth. 

Ralph Haliburton. 

John M'AuLAY (or Short), . . Nepheio of Menteitli. 

Gilbert Grimsby (or Jop), . . A Scottish Herald. 

Fergus, An attendant. 

Citizens, Soldiers, &c. 

WOMEN. 

Margaret of France, . . . . Queen of Edward. 

T . ^^^.T .^ S Sister of the Earl of Pemhroke, and 

Joan de Valence, .... -^ ^x^y ^ o- ri j n 

' ( '> y<'- ojf bir John de ( omiin. 

Klspeth Wylie, WaJlace^s Nurse. 

Attendant on Ladq Comyn. 



1 



ACT I. 



^ttnt Jfirst. 
slam annan mooe the english encampment. 

(King Edward, Pembroke, Lincoln, Hereford, Bruce, 
Bishop Bek, and other LeadePs.) 

Edward (taking Pembroke aside). 
Why, cousin Valence ! these are news indeed ! 
Disunion in their camp ! Bonkill and Wallace 
At daggers drawn ! and Comyn working for us ! 
Scot though he be, thou think 'st then we may trust him — 
This brother-in-law of thine ? 

Pembr. We may and surely. 

'Twas he advised Corspatrick where they camp : 
'Twas he betrayed their purpose to surprise us, 
Enabling us to turn upon themselves 
The very stratagem they meant for us. 
He feeds their quarrel covertly, and will 
Withdraw his followers in their battle's need. 
For hostage of his faith he 's sent in pawn 
His lady to our camp. 

Edward. My cousin Joan, 

Thy sister ? Ha ! Then (advancing to the other chiefs) h 

land 's mine again ! 
And what is more than all, the traitor Wallace 
Is trapped at last ; and for his many treasons, 



oO WALLACE. 

His raids, his burnings, and his butcheries, 
For all the English towns his hands have sacked, 
For all the English blood his hand has spilt, 
He'll be repaid with royal usury ! 
And for this land, damned with the primal curse 
Of thorns and thistles — fertile in nought but traitors — 
'Tis not enough to conquer, I must crush it : 
I'll trust no more to Scot or Scotsman's oath : 
Stone walls and English steel shall be m}^ sureties. 
Away, then, lords of England ! to your charge : 
Each captain to his post ! There are the Scots, — 
Let not one traitor of the breed escape you. 
Remember and repay the fields of Beg, 
Of Stirling, Stanmore, and Blackironside. 
The bloody barns of Ayr, — our slaughtered countrymen, 
Fenwicke, and Heselrig, and Cressinghame. — 
And he, this day, who brings me dead or living 
(Proclaim it through the hostj, the outlaw Wallace, 
If he be yeoman, shall rise belted knight, 
If knight, an earl. Away! and raise our war-cry, 
God and St. George for Edward and for England ! 

\_Exevnt. 



FALKIRK MOOR — THE SCOTTISH ENCAMPMENT. 

An oj^en Tent. "^ 

(Wallace, Bonktll, Oomyn, Lennox, Macduff, Dk Graeme 
and other Leaders.) 

Bonk. Betrayed ! impossible ! 
W^all. I fear we are. — 



WALLACE. 31 

This very night I meant to have surprised them 
At Temple-liston : for I knew their fleet 
From France had anchored yesterday at Leith, 
G-roaning with wine casks, and I hoped to find them. 
Drugged with the Grallic potion, all adoze, 
Unready for us. How they found us out 
I cannot tell : I fear me we're betrayed ; 
But here 'twere madness to abide them. 

Bonk. Why? 

Wall. Because their number more than trebles ours — 
Because their archers and their men-at-arms 
Are many, ours but few. And on this heath 
There is no ground where valour joined to A^antage, 
Might hope to equalize such fearful odds. 

Bonk. What ! wouldst thou then, before our hooting foe, 
Full in his sight, these thirty thousand Scots 
Should turn their backs and flee without a blow ? 
I will not budge, not I ! Art thou afraid ? 

Wall, [smiling). Afraid, Bonkill? why. for myself per- 
chance 
Not much : but for my country, yes ! My life 
Is mine, and if I rashly peril it, 
I peril but mine own : but rashness here 
Perils my country — perils man}' thousands. 
Whose life and safety on my conscience lie. 
Let us across the Forth. 

Bonk. Across the Forth ! 

That we may fight at Stirling Bridge again ? 
Dost think that Edward, like that foolish priest, 
Will run into thy mouse -trap ? 

Wall ' No, Bonkill, 

I do not think so. Edward 's too ripe a general 



8*2 WALLACE. 

To lend us vantage there, or lose it here. 
But on this heath where bush or rock is none 
To flank or fence them, can om- hasty levies — 
Brave though they be — ill-armed and few in number, 
Hope to withstand the clouds of English archers, 
And mailed horsemen on their barbed steeds ? 
Let 's to our ridgy heights, our rocky passes ; 
The forests and the floods as heretofore 
Will fight for us : and when occasion serves, 
We'll on these Southrons, and take brave revenge. 

Bonk. Do as thou wilt : I came to fight, not flee : 
My brother's Brandanes, my own Foresters, 
Their blood is up : I've brought them to the ring — 
Dance as they may, I will not baulk their playing. 

Wall. But, Lord Bonkill, ere thou resolve, consider — 

Bonh. I have considered : this is my resolve — 
Flee those who will, I fight. 

Comyn. And I. 

Wall. Then you're resolved that on this very ground 
We will abide the foe. 

Bonk. That 's our resolve. 

Wall. Alas ! my Lords, I fear me we shall rue it. — 
But we are banded in a holy cause. 
And must not risk its marring by dissension. 
What little vantage this unsheltered moor 
May off"er, let us turn it to account. 
Bonkill, thou seest yon space of level ground. 
In front defended by a deep morass ? — 
Post thou thy Brandanes there : betwixt each schiltron. 
Filling the intervals with Ettrick bowmen. 
Meanwhile De Comyn with the horse — 

Bonk. But pardon me.- 



WALLACE. SS 

Tliou orderest us as one clad witli authority, 
Who leads our battle ? Who 's our general ? 

Wall. I am, Bonkill— 

Bonk. Thou ! thou our general ! 

And by what right, I pray ? 

Wall. In Bailor s right. 

Our captive king, as Scotland's Lord High Warden. 

Bonk. As Scotland's Warden ! Who appointed thee ? 
Is't of thine own assuming? 

Wall. No, Bonkill, 

Nor of my seeking. 

Bonk. Who conferred it then ? 

Wall. Scotland's free peers and knights. 

Bonk. Assembled where ? 

Wall. At Forest-kirk, — Baliol has since confirmed it. 

Comyn. But Baliol is not free. To Baliol's blood 
I am the next of kin, his sister's son. 
The rights derived from him, descend to me. 

Bonk. The peers and knights of Scotland choose thee 
Warden ! 
Where was my brother, Scotland's lord high steward ? 
Where was De Bruce, the high-born lord of Carrick, 
And Annandale ? Where was Sir John de Comyn, 
The lord of Cumbernauld and Badenach ? 
Where was Macduff? Where were an hundred more. 
The prime of Scotland's old nobility ? 
Were they at Forest-kirk ? 

Wall. Bonkill, they were not. 

Bonk. Where were they then? Why had they not a voice? 
Were they not cited ? 

Wall. No, they were not cited. 

Bonk. Aha ! I thought me so ; and wherefore, pray thee ? 



64: WALLACE. 

Wall. Dost ask me where they were, and why not cited ? 
They were in England part, and part at home, 
On Scottish ground snug in their English castles I 
They had forsworn allegiance to their country — 
On bended knee proclaimed their servitude — 
Before their angry God, their blushing country. 
They had invoked damnation on their heads. 
If e'er they took up arms against King Edward, 
Scotland's Lord paramount and lawful king I 
no, they were not at the Forest-kirk — 
And why they were not cited art thou satisfied ? 

Comyn. Ha 1 Dost thou taunt us with our forced submis- 



sion 



Bonk, And darest thou, upstart — dares a yeoman's grand- 
son — 

Wall. A yeoman's grandson ! 

Bonk. Ay ! a yeoman's grandson — 

A very peasant, from his dunghill's hot-bed, 
Shot up to rankness, dares he thus insult 
The high-bom peers of Scotland ? Dares he claim 
The vaward of her battles ? Dares he thus — 

Wall. Dares he, Bonkill ! I'll tell thee what he dares. 
He bears his sovereign's signet : in that right 
He leads his sovereign's battles, and to thee, 
Proud peer ! no, nor to man of woman born, 
Save to his king himself, Scotland's liege lord, 
Will he that right resign. 

Bonk. If thou be general. 

Where are thy soldiers ? where thy following ? 
Thou'dst play the eagle in thy borrowed plumage — 
Whose are the feathers wherewith thou wouldst eagle it ? 
Why yours — and yours — and yours ! Claim but your own. 



WALLACE. € 

The would-be eagle is a very owl— 
The very owl i' the fable ! 

Wall. ' No ; uot so ; 

Thou'rt but a lame expounder of thy text, 
Nor know'st the true appliance. When the hawk 
And royal eagle are abroad at prey, 
The owl doth hide him in his castle hole 
From danger and from day. But I have met 
The English Eagle in his proud career, — 
In his mid hour of passage and of pride, 
In the full blaze of noon : — ay, met and mated him, 
Where thou and thine, proud lord, durst not be seen. 
Who was the owl and who the eagle then ? 

Bonk. Where I durst not be seen ! Upstart and braggart- 

Lcnnox. Lords, lords, I pray you, for the love of heaven- 
Look to yon hill, whitened with English tents — 
Look to yon sky, c-louded with English pennons — 
Look to yon glittering sea of naked steel, 
Soon to be dimmed with the best blood of Scotland, 
And bid for ^ ery shame your quarrels peace ! 
As for myself, all rights of rank and place 
Abeyed, I'll follow any of the three, 
For all I know are brave. But, lords, consider 
(The question of the Wardenship apart) 
The many claims of Wallace. He has rescued 
His native land twice from the tyrant's grasp ; 
His very name is with the soldiery 
A tower of strength, a watchword of success : 
Let him but this one day — 

Bonk. No, Lord Lennox, no ! 

Not for one single hour. Thou, if thou wilt, 
Follow this king of Kyle ; but here I swear. 
While Stewart lives, he shall nor king nor warden it. 



86 WALLACE. 

Lennox. The king of Kyle ! for shame, uumannered Lord ! 

Wall. The jest is stale, — a branded traitor's gall — 
A traitor made it, and a fool repeats it. 

Corny n. A traitor ! 

Wall. Ay, a black, proclaimed traitor, 

Thy brother-in-law, Corspatric of Dunbar. 
Lords, ye haye taunted me with lowly birth, 
Ambition, arrogance, — I know not what. 
All this I could digest, I could despise ; 
I have a witness in my bosom here 
Doth clear me to myself — And to the world, 
Behold my voucher on yon tented hill — 
England's proud Edward — ^he can witness for me 
A proffered crown could neither bribe nor dazzle me. 
'Tis not a point of paltry precedence 
I stand upon. Did pride alone gainsay, 
I'd yield it readily ; 

For p]|ide I would — ^for policy I dare not. 
There's treason in the camp, and treason's dupes — 

Bonk. Treason ! whom darest thou accuse of treason ? 

Wall. Not thee, Bonkill : I know thou'st had thy cue — 
I know thy prompter, and thy setter on ; 
He is the traitor — thou the wretched dupe — 

Bonk. A dupe ! ha ! {drawing his sword.) 

Wall. Put up thy sword, thou rash mis-tempered man ; 
Dost think I fear it ? Ere this day be done 
Thou'lt need it all : it will have work enough. 

Grmme. And work, I ween, there needs no tarrying for. 
There sounds the summons to't. 

{ShouiSj trumpets^ ^r., heard in the distanced) 

{An Officer rushes in.) 



WALLACE. 87 

Ojf. My lords ! away ! 

The foe is on us. 

\Exlt De Comyn. 

Bonk. All wlio will do battle 

This day for Scotland and her liberties, 
Away with me ! — De Comyn and Macduff — 

Macduff. De Comyn 's gone. 
. Bonk. We will not lag behind him. 

Macduff. I'll go with thee, Bonkill, tho' well I know 
This madness hath undone us. 

\Exeuni Bonkill and Macduff. 

{Manent Wallace, Lennox, De GtR.eme, Moray, cjr. TJiey 
regard each other for some time sadly aiid in silence.) 

Lennox. How dost thou think of this ? 

Wall. Scotland ! Scotland ! 

One glorious day had ransomed thee for ever : 
But treason prosjDers, and a race of freemen 
A foreign tyrant tramples into slaves. 

Grcenie. I cannot think so harshly of these lords. 

Wall. Comyn's a traitor, and Bonkill a madman ! 
Scotland is lost. If Comyn lead her army, 
'Tis sold to Edward ; if Bonkill, 'tis slaughtered. 
I must not follow them ; I will not flee : 
From yonder height we may descry their battle. 
We cannot bar defeat, but we may lighten it. [Exeunt. 



88 WALLACE. 

%cznt CHrir. 

FALKTEK MOOR. 

(Shoids, trumpets^ ^'c, heard as of a battle. Enter Bonkill. 
with his sword drawn^ ivounded and supported by an officer.) 

Off. Alas ! my lord, I fear you're hurt to death. 

Bonk. mind not me, but haste thee to Macduff — 

Off. Macduff ! my lord, alas ! 
■ Bonic. What ! has he fallen ? 

Then to De Comyn with thy utmost speed, 
And tell him — but why lookest thou thus ? Has he — 
Has he too fallen ? 

Off. Would to God he had ! 

His recreant heart planted with English arrows, 
Even to its rotten core ! 

BonTc. What has he done ? 

Off. Even at the first assault, a sword unsoiled 
A drop of blood undrawn, the dastard fled 
With all his following. 

Bonk. With all his following, 

Saidst thou ? — without a blow ! A horrid light . 
Hath broke on me, — fool, driveller that I was 
To be thus foully duped ! injured Wallace ! 
Would Heaven but lend me one day's life to do 
Atone to thee, and on that traitor justice ! 

Off. for one hour of William Wallace now ! 

Bonk. He must be found. Go tell him of my plight : 
Say, with ray dying breath I prayed his pardon, 
]My country's, and my God's ; say. I conjured him. 



WALLACE. 39 

By Ms own noble lieart, by Scotland's safety, 
By Comyn's treason, and by Bonkill's madness. 
To bury for tbis day bis wrongs, and succour 
The noble remnant of tliose Scots wbom I 
In my dupe's dotage have consigned to slaughter. 
Away ! away ! 

Off. And leave thee here to die ! 

Bonk. Think not of nie ; I would not suffer life ; 
Death is my honour's sanctuary. Thy news 
Have braced me for one bloody bout the more. 
My gallant Forestei-s and Brandanes 1 Stewart 
Is with you yet, to lead you to revenge. 
And show you how to die ! Away ! away ! 

[^Exeunt severalh/. 



THE SAME A ELSIKG GROUND NEAR CALLENDER W^OOD. 

(Wallace, Lennox, De Gr-eme, Moray, Lauder, ^c, as look- 
ing at an engagement in the distance.) 

Gr, Bravo, stout Brandanes ! well-fought Foresters ! 
God and St. Andrew for the brave blue bonnets ! 
i^nother charge ! stand fast : look, Wallace, look. 
At yonder schiltron showered on by English arrows, 
Like snow-drift on a rock ! and that, beyond it, 
Ringed round and round by walls of living mail — 
England's hot chivalry, — see how they stand ! 
Not Ailsa Bock itself more sternly steadfast ! 

Wall. But where's De Comyn? Where's the cavalry? 



1:0 WALLACE. 

How can he leave them to be slaughtered thus ! 
Our archers are destroyed ! Brave though they be. 
These schiltrons are not made of stone or iron, 
They are not butcher's blocks or armourer's anvils 
To be thus hacked and hewed and hammered on. 

Gr. Hurrah ! the assailants are repulsed. 

Wall Not so, 

They're only out of breath. They but make way 
For fresh assailants. There they come by thousands ! 
But, heaven and earth ! what flag is that ? Look yonder — 
The Lion Ramping on a field of Gold ! 

Lennox. I know it well — the royal flag of Scotland : 
It is the banner of Sir Robert Bruce. 

Wall. Of Robert Bruce ! shame on the unnat'ral parricide ! 

Gr. Wallace ! Wallace ! look ! Alas ! my countrymen ; 
Would I were in the midst of you ! They yield ; — 
They're broken — slaughtered — ^flying — ^followed. 

(Wallace and Be GtRJEME regard each other for a moment 
sadly and in silence.^ 

Wall. traitor Comyn ! and hot-headed Stewart ! 
But 'tis no time to rail. (Turning to his folloicers.') 

Ye true-born Scots, 
Who still have followed Wallace and his fortunes 
In sunshine and in storm ; 

Who have held fast your freedom and your faith 
In bloody fields, through ban and beggary, 
( )ur wrongs must not be dearer than our country ; 
We must not see our brothers basely butchered 
For Bonkill's folly or for Comyn's treason. 
Through yonder host we needs must cut our way 
To the Torwood. Wo to the traitor Bruce, 



WALLACE. ' 41 

And Durham's bloody priest ! On to the rescue ! 
To save our gallant countrymen or perish ! 

(They rush out. By and hye^ shouts of A. Wallace ! 
A Wallace ! are heard.) 



CALLENDER WOOD A GLADE NEAR THE NORTH-WESTERN" 

EXTREMITY OF THE WOOD. 

(Wallace, Riccartoun, Kerle, with a few followers. Ente? 
to them Stephen of Ireland.) 

Wall. Hast thou seen aught of them ? 

Steph. The brave Earl Malcolm, 

With Moray, Seton, and the other chiefs, 
Have led the gallant wreck across the Carron, 
And they are safe upon the farther height 
Doth overlook the ford. 

Wall. Our task is done then, 

And we may after them. But where's De Grrasme? 
I have not seen him since I turned aside 
To stanch the wound the Bruce's falchion dealt me. 

Riccart. Just at that moment, ■ 'mid a hill of slain, 
He spied the body of Macduff — 

Wall. Macduff! 

Alas ! the hero of Blackironside ! 

Riccart. And some ten paces in advance of it, 
Walled round with English dead, gory and gashed, 
Life scarce extinct, the body of Bonkill — 



42 



WALLACE. 



Wall. Stewart ! Stewart ! thou hast paid full dear 
For all thme errors. Peace be with thy soul, 
Thou nohle Scot ! thy faults were of the head, 
Thy heart was honest, as thine arm was brave. 

Riccart. At this De G-raeme, 
Shouting revenge, rushed 'mid the Southron ranks, 
Among whose thousands, Lauder and himself 
Soon disappeared. 

Wall. In evil case, I fear. 

On to the rescue ! 

(Enter Lauder hurrieclly, his sword draiun and bloody.) 

Lauder, where 's De G-raeme ? 

Laud. Where we can yield him nothing but revenge ; 
The gallant Graeme is slain ! 

All. Slain ! 

Laud. Ay, look there ; 

His slaughterers are fast upon my traces. 

Wall. Oh, I could weep ! but that must be hereafter ; 
"Tis now a time for doing. 

(Enter Sir Brian le Jay, and a iparty of English soldiers.) 

Sir Brian. Wallace, render thee ; 

Macduff, Bonkill, are slain ; Sir John de Grasme — 

Wall. Is not yet cold ; and thou, thou traitor templar ! 
Shalt be a corse before him. ■ 

(Rushes 071 Sir Brian; they fight; Le Jay is slain.) 

De Grc^me! 
Rescue I may not, but I shall avenge thee. 

(Rushes out after the English soldiers, folloiued hy Riccartoun. 
Lauder, Kerle, and soldiers shouting, A Gr.eme ! A 
(tr^me ! S)'c.) 



WALLACE. 43 



edwaed's tent near falkiek. 

(Edward, Pembroke, Lincoln, Hereford, Bek, and other 
English chiefs at table; one seat unoccupied^) 

Edw. The day has been a bloody but a glorious — 
Welcome, my lords, I trow our banquet needs 
No costly condiment to relish it : 
'Twas bravely earned, enjoy it merrily. 
I miss but one : Lord Bishop, where's thy colleague ? 
We're much his debtor — Oh, here comes the Bruce. 

(^Enter Bruce hastily^ as if just returned from hattle. After 
homing respectfully to Edward, he sits down in the vacant 
seat, and begins to eat. Pembroke whispers something to 
the other lords, who laugh simtdtaneously.) 

AYhat moves your mirth, my lords ? 

Pemb. We laugh to see 

De Bruce eat his own blood, — lap Scottish blood — 

Bruce. Lap Scottish blood ! Would'st thou insult me, 
Pembroke ? 

Pemb. Look at thy bloody hands ; they're all unwashed ; 
Dost not lap Scottish blood at every mouthful ? 

Br. {starting up). De Yalence, dare but to repeat that 
taunt — 

Ed%u. Nay prithee, Bruce ; De Yalence, thou'rt to blame ; 
'Tis but a foolish jest. Camps are not courts. 
And well may Bruce dispense with ceremony. 
His noble deeds, this day, have won him right, 



44 WALLACE. 

Washed or unwashed, to eat at Edward's table, 
An honoured and an ever welcome guest. 

(Bruce hows respectfully to Edward. Then aside.) 

Eat my own blood ! lap Scottish blood ! — too true I 

Edw. Our victory is complete. The rebel chiefs 
Slain in the action, as this roll informs me, 
Are many and of note. But one is wanting. 
And he of all the most expected, Wallace. 
Know ye aught of the traitor ? 

Bi\ He's escaped. 

Edw. Then lacks our victory its crowning cope. — 
But ho, for Stirling ! there we'll celebrate. 
In flowing cups, the glorious fight of Falkirk ; 
And be this day — St. Mary Magdalene's — 
Bemembered in our feasts, and writ a day 
Auspicious in our English calendar ! 

[Exeunt all hut Brfce 

Br. Lap Scottish blood ! And do you taunt me thus, 
And thus repay me this day's services, 
Proud lords of England ? Eat my own blood, said ye ? 
And yet, perchance, 'twas but my jealous guilt 
That turned an innocent jest to bitterness, 
And lent it scornful meaning. But no, no ! 
What they have charged in sport, I've done in verity. 
That thought, a scorpion's sting plants in my memory 
Its wound, envenomed, and immedicable ! 

How I escaped I know not ; for I fought 
With desperate recklessness to quash the thoughts 
That ever and anon rose as I viewed 
The glorious handful of my countrymen 
Melting away before the Southron's steel, 



WALLACE. 45 

Like tlieir own winter snows upon Ben Nevis, 
Before midsummer's sun. Alas, my father ! 
Thine hostage son has earned thy safety dearly ! 
I'll take one last look at that fatal field, 
Where Scotland's freedom, and where Bruce's honour 
Perished together. — But who comes this way ? 

(E?iter Sir James Lindsay.) 
Ah i Lindsay ! 

Lijid. I have come, my lord, in haste 

To seek thee. My good lord of Annandale — 

Br. Ha! what of him? Thy face is dressed in sadness,; 
Surely the tyrant Edward has not dared — 

Lind. Thy noble father is beyond the reach 
Of tyrants and of tyranny, — ^he's dead. 

Br. Dead ! saidst thou, Lindsay ? Dead ! when died he ? 

Lind. But three days since. 

Br. Three days ! only three days ! 

Oh, would it had been sooner ! 

Lind. Sooner, my lord ?' 

Br. Ay, sooner ! Would he had been in his grave 
A year — a month— ^a week — then had I been 
Happy ! 

Lind. Happy, thy father in his grave ! 

Br. Lindsay, think not harshly of my words, 
They have a meaning, not a guilty one. 
I loved my father, and I do lament him, 
As should a loving son an honoured sire. — 
But I am sick at heart. Let's to yon field. 
Red with the life's-blood of our native Scotland : 
'Tis a fit place for that which I would learn, 
And would impart to thee. 



46 WALLACE. 

PART OF THE FIELD OF BATTLE BELOW FALKIRK. 

(£J?i^er Wallace, Lennox, Lauder, Kiccartoun, Kerle, ^r.) 

Lander. 'Twas somewhere near this spot. 

Rlccart. Yonder's a heap of slain. The gallant Graeme 
Would not have perished without company. 
Alas ! he's here. There is the fatal opening, . 
Where, thro' the faithless harness from behind, 
The recreant pierced him. 

(Wallace, rusliing forward^ throws himself on the body^ — 
covers his face for some time with his hands^ — then rises 
and stands., sorrowfully contemplating the corse.) 

Wall. And is this all that doth remain of thee, 
Thou noblest, bravest Scot ! gallant Grrgeme, 
The gentle and the good ! Woe's me, my brother ! 
My twin in counsel — my right arm in battle — 
My loving rival in the field of fame — 
My bright example in the path of honour ! 
Thou flower of knighthood and true nobleness ! 
Th' unchanging friend, the honourable foe ; 
The frankly wise, the mercifully brave ! 
Thou lover of thy country and her cause. 
Without one thought of self ! With thee, to boot, 
Wallace had stood for Scotland's liberties 
Against the world ! But now that thou art gone, 
I am but half myself. Pardon me, friends ! 



WALLACE. 4 

There lies the brother of my soul, the friend 
That, in my worst of fortunes, ne'er forsook me ; 
My help and comforter ; to whom the Wallace, 
Outlaw or Warden, was alike the same ! 
Though I began the war, with equal arm 
He wrought the rescue of our mother-land. 
]3ear hence his honoured corse. With all the rites 
Of love and honour, that the time admits of, 
Blair will consign to dust the noblest clay 
That Scottish spirit ever tenanted. 

(RiGCAiiTOUN, Lauder, with some other chiefs^ hear off the 
hody^ Wallace and IjE^^ox following.) 



ANOTHER PART OP THE FIELD OF BATTLE NEAR THE RIGHT 
BANK OF THE CARRON. 

[Enter Bruce and Lindsay.) 

Br. Lindsay, my heart is sick,' At every step 
I tread on slaughter'd countrymen, whose eyes, 
Though fixed in death, do seem to glare on me, 
As on their murderer, whose stiffened lips 
Seem curled to scorn as I, their countryman, 
Their king and enemy, do pass them by, 
I cannot bear it longer : let's away ; 
The thoughts are working in my guilt- struck soul 
Shall one day live in action, 

Lind. Hush, my lord ! 



48 WALLACE. 

Look, who are these that march in sad procession, 
Bearing a corse ? 

Br. Behke the followers 

Of some brave Scot, slain in this murderous melee. 
Ha ! well I know them all ! There is the Wallace, 
There good Earl Malcolm, there Sir Andrew Moray, 
Sir Chrystal Seton, Lundy, and Riccartoun, 
Sir John de Ramsay, Lauder, Boyd, and others, 
The choice of Scotland's sons. Alas ! alas ! 
Why is not Bruce among them? Let's retire 
Till they have crossed the stream. 

'{TheAj retire.) 

[Enter the procession. It passes across the stage. Wallace 
and Kerle are last. They pause in crossing the stage.) 

Wall. Pardon me, Kerle, that on this busy day 
I have forgot to thank thee for thy love ; 
And for the life I owe thee, when my steed. 
Wounded and worn, sunk on the field beneath me. 
And left me in my reckless rage alone. 

I've lost one friend, my heart doth cling the closer 
To those I've left. Oh, many a deed of love 
Thou'st done for me ! May*Heaven reward thee tenfold ! 
For Wallace never can. 

Kerle. Speak not to me of thanks or of reward, 
My ever-honoured lord. To see thee safe 
Is all the thanks I covet : and my prayer, 
When Wallace dies, to perish by his side. 

(Wallace grasps his hand affectionately. Exeunt. The 
jjrocession re-appears on the opposite bank of the Carrou, 
at this spot a narrow and rochj stream. Bra'CE and 



WALLACE. 49 

Lindsay come forward on the side which the procession has 
left. As Wallace and Kerle pass on the opposite bank^ 
following the procession which has disappeared^ Bruce 
hails Wallace across the stream.) 
Bruce. Who goes there ? 
Wall. A man. 

Br. Ay, and a brave cue. 

As thou hast proved this day. We've met before — 
Wall. We met at Irvine, and — we've met at Falkirk. 
Br. Thou tauntest me : I fear thou deem'st me light. 
Wall. This day I found thee heavy. Thou hast left 
Thy mark on me. 

Br. Wilt thou some brief moments 

Vouchsafe me speech ? Thou seest I'm unattended, 
Save by a single friend, and he will leave us. 

Wall. Pass on, I pray thee, Kerle [exit Kerle), and now 

Sir Earl. 
Br. Lindsay, withdraw a space. 

\Exit Lindsay. 

(Wallace and Bruce approach each other at the narrowest 
part of the brook.) 

Br. Wallace, I have just cross(5d that bloody field ; — 
'Tis a sad sight ; it's made my heart to ache. 

Wall. And well it may : for mine it 's made to grieve 
Almost to biu'sting, — -albeit I'm no traitor, 
Nor carry on my soul the load of parricide. 

Br. Thy speech is bitter. 

Wall. Bitterer is thy guilt-. 

Br. When will these wars have end ? 

Wall When Scotland \s free. 

When thou art honest, and when Edward 's dead. 

D 



50 WALLACE. 

Br. Why wilt thou shed the blood of gallant men 
Upon this desperate quarrel ? Take the terms 
That Edward oflPers. Own him the liege lord 
Of Scotland, and be under him her king. 

Wall. I, king of Scotland ! I, king Edward's bondsman ! 
And this from thee ! 
thou degenerate and bastard Bruce ! 
Baliol was weak, but thou art infamous ! 
Why do I shed the blood of gallant men ? — 
And doth the devil preach ! On yonder bier 

[Pointing to the procession.) 
Lies one whose worth to equipoise, thy master 
Edward, with all his host of titled slaves, 
Were gossamer to gold. 

Who shed his blood ? From whom doth weeping Scotland 
Ask back her noblest son ? From Robert Bruce ! 
Thou renegade ! devourer of thine own ! 
Did I but meet thee in the battle-field — 
As soon God send I shall — I swear I'd liefer 
Plunge this Scots whinyard in thy felon breast. 
Than in the heart of Turk or Saracen. 

Br. Ha ! who is he whose blood thus passionately 
Thou chargest on me ? In the eyes of Wallace, 
Who was the first of Scots ? 

Wall. He was, indeed. 

The first of Scots — of men ! Alas, de Graeme ! 
That thou shouldst fall, while Bruce and Comyn live ! 

Br. Ha ! Gra3me ! Sir John de Graeme ! and has he fallen 
noble Graeme ! would I were in thy place, 
And thou this day alive ! I can no more — 

Wallace ! Wallace ! I am sick at heart. — 

1 have been meshed in toils devised in hell. 



WALLACE. 51 

By holy bonds linked to unholy cause, 
An hostage for my father : but at length 
That bond is snapped asunder, — ^freed himself. 
Mine honoured father makes his son a freeman ! 

Wall. Ha ! freed himself ! what doth thy riddle mean ? 
Thy noble father, Bruce of Annandale — 

Br. Is free ; for he is dead — 

Wall. Dead ! dead ! when died he ? 

Br. I have but learned it not an hour ago : 
Would I had learnt it ere this fatal day ! 

(Covers his eyes with his hands.) 
But now at last I draw a freeman's breath, 
And feel myself mine own. Before high heaven. 
Before these glorious mountains, and thyself. 
The blessed bulwarks of my country's freedom, 
I swear this sword shall never more be drawn 
Against my native land. 

Wall. Bruce ! were I assured of thy sincerity — 

Br. Of my sincerity ! and dost thou dare — 
Does mortal man dare to distrust the oath 
Of Robert Bruce ? Alas ! forgive me, Wallace. — 
The world and thou have had too fatal cause 
To hold me light, — but time will do me justice. 

Wall. It shall. I do believe thee ! de Bruce, 
This very day, this very hour, abandon 
The tents of tyranny, and join thine own. 

Br. No, not to-day ; 

My oath is holy, even tho' plight to one 
Who minds no oath himself. It must be kept ; 
But never more shalt thou, in battle-field, 
See Robert Bruce in arms against his own. 
And should the tyrant, when my term is out, 



52 WALLACE. 

Fail his repeated pledge to yield me up 
The crown of Scotland on a freeman's brow. 
Free to be worn as e'er my fathers wore it — ■ 
Then I repeat my oath — 
Leader or follower, as my country wills, 
To cast my lot with yours, and, till she's free. 
Never to sheathe this sword against her enemies ! 
Wall. thou eventful day in Scotland's story, 
Ever to be remembered ! — 
Dark was thy morning, dismal was thy noon, 
But glorious is thy setting ! Worthy heir 
Of princely Huntington, let William Wallace 
Be the first Scot to do thee fealty. 
Behold, I kneel to thee, who never knelt 
To mortal man before. Hail, king of Scotland ! 
And as to her thou provest true or false. 
May Heaven for weal or wo remember thee ! 

Br. Amen ! — and, when I prove a traitor to her, 
JDo thou, her glorious champion and avenger, 
Eip from this bosom, with thy patriot steel, 
The foul inhabitant that tenants it. — 
But night steals on, and I have much to conmiune 
And counsel with thee, ere I join the tyrant. — 
Where shall we meet to-morrow ? 

Wall. At the chapel 

Of Dunipace hard by, at this same hour, 
I will attend thee. The good parson W^allace, 
Mine uncle, will assure us privacy. 

Br. Be't so ; Grod keep thee till we meet to-morrow. 

l^Exeuni 

END OF ACT I. 



WALLACE. 53 



ACT IL 



TORWOOD. 

(Enter Joan de Valence [Lady Comyn]. a7id a female 
attendant.) 

Attend. dearest Lady, I dare go no farther. 
This is a fearful place ! The gloom of midnight 
Broods, even at noon-day, o'er these horrid woods ! 
The silence and the solitude affright me. 
Let us return ; what if some savage bandit — 
For who but bandits can inhabit here — 
Should light upon us ! 

Lady C. 'Tis my very prayer ; 

For he would lead us to the man we want. 

Att. But what could we, two feeble, helpless women, 
Against their violence — 

Lady C. Oh, fear not that. — 

The bandits of these woods are chivalrous, 
And will not harm a woman. With the tongue 
Of England, had we English bills or beards. 
There were some danger then ; but we are safe ; 
For William Wallace is the Torwood's king, 
He and his knights do not make war on women. 



54 WALLACE. 

Att. But should thy lord hear of this mad adventure ? 

Lady C. E'en let him. If my purpose speed, I care not; 
And if it fail, I'll make Sir John de Comyn 
My debtor for the service I can render him. 

Att. What if thy hate to Wallace — 

Lady C. Hate to Wallace ! 

Att. Dost thou not hate him, then ? I thought thy love 
Was turned to deadly hate. 

Lady C. I thought so too, 

And acted madly on the faith of it. 
When he, with ice-cold courtesy, refused 
The love, the hand, that in my passion's fever, 
My sex's coyness, and my royal blood, 
Forgotten and abased, I tendered to him. 
Mistaking rage for hate, I married Comyn, 
His deadliest enemy. Selfish and cunning, 
A blazoned traitor, a suspected coward, 
how unlike the hero of my dreams. 
And of my heart ! My scorn for Comyn's baseness 
Adds daily fuel to my love for Wallace, — 
Till I can hold no more. For this last effort 
The time is apt, for I can render Wallace 
Service none other can. 

Att. Ha ! there's a cottage, 

Couched like a nest in yonder wilderness 
Of birch and briars. 

Lady C. 'Tis the place we want — 

His nurse's cottage ; let us enter it. 

[Exeunt into the cottage. 



WALLACE. 55 



THE SAME. NEAR WALLACE'S OAK. 

(Enter Wallace hastily^ followed hy Lady Comyn.) 

Lady C. Wallace, hear me ! 

Behold me kneel— 

Wall. Lady, for shame, arise ! 

Bethink thee of thy sex, thy blood, thy husband — 

Lady G. My husband ! — -and who is that husband, Wallace ? 
Thy deadly enemy. 

Wall. But he's thy husband. 

Lady C. Thy country's enemy as well as thine ! 
Did he not play the coward and the traitor 
At Falkirk? 

Wall. But he fought at Boslin moor 

]iike a true Scot, bravely and gloriously. 

L'tdy C. Did he not thrust thee from the Wardenship, 
That he might seize 't himself? 

Wall. My purposes 

Were misreported, and I did resign it. 

Ljady C. He has resigned it too ; but not like thee ; 
He's made his peace — a golden peace — with Edward. 

Wall. Besigned the Begency ! it is not possible — 

Lady C. And sworn allegiance to the English king, 
As the liege lord of Scotland ! for the which, 
Of Edward's gratitude, one-third of Scotland 
Doth own him lord. 

Wall. One -third of Scotland, saidst thou ? 

Lady C. The lands of Ellerslie— 



56 WALLACE. 

Wall. The lands of Ellerslie ! 

Ladj/ C. Of Riccartoun, of Lamington, the earldoms 
Of Lennox and of Galloway — 

Wall. Of Lennox 

And Galloway ! the insatiate Judas ! 

Lady C. Thou art excepted from the amnesty ; - 
A price set on thy head ; proclaimed an outlaw — 

Wall. That's but a trifle to the rest — 

Lad?/ C. With spies, 

With hired assassins, bought with Comyn's gold, 
Thou art beset. It was from one of them 
I learned the very hour, the very spot, 
AYhere I might find thee. 

Wall. For thy husband, lady, 

He is my foe, for that he is my country's ; 
And in the open field, or open council, 
With mortal challenge, I would tell him so : — 
Other revenge, 'gainst him, I know nor seek not. 
As for my life — 

Ladi/ C. It hangs upon a breath. 

Each moment perils it ; thou canst not count ont, 
Not for a single day. My brother Pembroke 
Is high in favour with my cousin Edward : 
He loves me well : — let me but call thee husband, 
Thou'lt be no more, amid these savage woods, 
yV himted outlaw ; Pembroke will yield to thee 
The regency ; say but the word, thine enemy 
And mine, de Comyn, is no more — 

Wall. lady, lady ! what are Comyn's crimes 
To those, in damning dreams, thou dalliest with ? 
Were William Wallace caught with baits like these, 
He wore not now a dweller in these woods. 



WALLACE. 57 

I've told thee, ere to speak with thee was sin, 
To woman's love this heart was closed for ever. 

Lady C. Think not to dupe me with a tale like that. 
Thy bosom closed to woman's love — indeed ! 
Was it so cold to woman's love at Perth ? 

Wall. Lady, for shame ! 

Lady C. Or when thou stolest at the midnight hour 
To Ellen Bradfute !— 

Wall. In the name of Heaven 

I charge thee, peace ! — Thou'st named the name of one 
Who is a saint in heaven : — nor must thy lips. 
Hot with unholy breath, blaspheme her purity. 
Thy secret's safe : — but for thine honour's sake, 
Thy sex's, and thy blood's, haste thee from hence. 
Till thou hast passed the limit of this wood 
Thy safety is assured. 

\Exit Wallace. 

Lady C. Wallace, hear me ! 

Thou wilt not : — he is gone : — and I am left 
To scorn and to despair — left with the soil 
And sting of guilt without the benefit ! 

Come, deadly hate ! deadliest in woman's soul 
When thou art born of love, — and with revenge. 
The sweetest passion after love, let love. 
Soured into gall, possess and quicken me. 

[Exit. 



58 WALLACE. 

CAMBUSKENNETH ABBEY, NEAE STIRLING. THE CHAPEL. 

(Li the background of the Scene, the Abbot at a Table, em- 
ployed in copying a document. In the foreground, Bruce 
and CoMYN.) 

Comyn. But must thou hence so soon ? 

Bruce. This very night 

I must join Edward ere he cross the border ; 
For he is jaundiced o'er with jealousies, 
And will mistrust me else. My brother Edward 
Remains in Scotland : — he has my instructions : — 
Carrick and Annandale will rise with him 
When we are ripe. 

Abbot, (coming forward) — 

The writings, lords, are ready ; 
Are ye prepared to seal, and swear to them ? 

Both. We are. 

Abbot. Then, reverently, by yonder holy rood — 

(pointing to the crucifix) 
The blessed symbol of your hopes, ye swear 
To faithful keeping of this bond ? 

Both. We swear. 

Abbot. Then vouch it with your seals. 
(They seal. The Abbot then rolls up the two parchments and 
delivers a copy to each?) 

Br. My good lord Abbot, 

We are thy debtors largely : — the meanwhile 
Keep this our secret. 



WALLACE. 59 

Ahhot. 'Tis buried here, in as deep sacredness 
As in your proper breasts ; and every day 
My prayers shall visit heaven, and be importunate 
For your success. 

Br. Thanks, thanks, kind Abbot, for the present, thanks, — 
The time may come when we more worthily 
Ma}^ recompense thy love, thanks and farewell. 

\_Exit Abbot. 
My furlough's brief, I must to horse forthwith. 
I need not counsel thee, — ^for thou art wise, 
To wary walking in these slippery times : — 
But, noble Comyn, by that sacred bond, 
Now booked in heaven, that seals our brotherhood 
Of interest and affection, with a brother's eye, 
Watch, I conjure thee, o'er those faithful few, 
Lord Lennox, and the rest, who have not crooked 
The knee to Edward, and without a home, 
Beggared and banished, make their savage lair 
Where foxes cub, or eagles build, contesting 
With wolves and wild- cats, the dank overlay 
Of some foul den. Spread over them the shield 
Of thy large influence : — Save them from the blood-hounds 
Of thy proud brother-in-law : — Their worth outvalues 
All reckoning : — and they are, next to Heaven, 
Our main dependance and expectancy. 

And William Wallace, — there's some feud betwixt you, — 
It must not be, you must be reconciled. 

Comyn. Wallace ! — Thou know'st him not : — he is intract- 
able. 
Proud, over-bearing, not amenable 
To counsel or command. 

Br. But he is valiant : 



60 WALLACE. 

His single arm's an host : — ^his very name 
Will sanctify our cause i' the general eye, 
And win us hearts and hands. Besides, already 
He's privy to my plan — 

Com. Ha ! — surely, Bruce. 

He knows not of our pact this day — 

Br. He knows 

Only my purpose to reclaim my own : — 
And he has sworn to aid me with his sword. 

Com. Well, be it so : — and since it pleasures thee, 
I will submit me to his proud caprices. 
And woo his fellowship. 

Br. I thank thee, Comyn. 

And now, farewell. When we do meet again, 
I trust it shall be on some glorious field. 
Where, busked in steel, for Scotland and her cause. 
We'll slip the lion on the leopards' neck, 
And gorge him with their blood. 

Com. Farewell, de Bruce, 

And Heaven preserve thee to achieve thine own. 

[Exit Bruce. 
(CoMYN takes out a letter^ which he reads — then walks about 

thoughtfully^ 
Fortune, I thank thee ! — thou hast timed this well — 
The throne is vacant : — 
My uncle Baliol, and my simple cousins, 
Have for themselves renounced it. In my way 
Lie two impediments — Wallace and Bruce, — 
The sword of Wallace, and the rights of Bruce. 
For Bruce, his hopes are in this parchment coffined. — 
This damning document in Edward's hands, 
Will be his death-text, glossed with my commentary 



WALLACE. 61 

That I but signed it to hoodwink de Bruce, 

And serve King Edward's cause. The line of Bruce 

Attainted or extinct, I follow next. — 

My wife is Edward's cousin. Should all fail, — 

Edward is old, and I can wait my time — 

The second Edward takes not of the first. — 

And as for Wallace Ah ! (looking out) here cometh one 

Brings me, I think, good tidings touching him. [Exit. 



THE SAME. OUTSIDE THE ABBEY WALLS, 

(CoMYN and Haliburton meeting^ 

Com. Well, Haliburton, whether hast thou brought me 
The carcase or the head ? 

Hal. Neither, my lord. 

Com. The devil 

Hal. The devil, indeed -.—he has some devil's charm 
For lith and limb, — for they are danger-proof. 

Com. Again escaped '.—How chanced it ? 

Hal. Having tracked him 

To his aunt's house, the lady Auchinleck's, 
I chose me, from the garrison of Lanark, 
Twenty stout horsemen, all well-armed and mounted, 
And sped to Grilbank. — -But he had been warned, 
And fled at our approach to th' Cartlan craigs. 
We followed hard, and closed him in a nook 
Whence there was no retreat, as he must needs 
Have sprung the precipice, or turned upon us. 



62 



WALLACE. 



On one side of this angle stretched a chasm 

Of fearful depth, — and full five paces broad : — 

He spurred his steed, and cleared it at a bound ! 

We stood amazed, and durst not follow him : — 

And, as we doubled its extremity. 

He rushed upon us, and with giant strength, 

The foremost two, horsemen and horse together, 

He hurled them down the horrible abyss : — 

Then, rushing forward some few paces farther, 

He cheered his steed, and took the leap himself ! — 

Com. Was he not dashed in pieces ? 

Hal. Far below, 

In bloody patches on the crags and bushes. 
We saw the mangled relics of our comrades, 
The birds of prey already over them. 
Screaming their horrid carnival. 

Com. But Wallace — 

But where was Wallace ? 

Hal. He had chosen his place. 

And lighted on a green projecting knoll, 
That hung self-balanced, as it seemed, in air, 
Midway the sheer descent. 

Coin. Was he not hurt then ? 

Hal. His horse was killed — but Wallace seemed 
jured ; 
For on this island crag, showed inaccessible 
But to the eagle's wing, he stood and taunted us, — 
Vowing, ere Yule, he'd make us pay right dear 
For the good steed we'd cost him. 

Com. Is he still 

In Cartlan, know'st thou? 

Hal. No : he haunts hard by 



WALLACE. 63 

I' the Torwood^I know his hiding-place, 
And will this time make sure. 

Com. I pray thee do — 

Remember our agreement. When thou bring'st me 
Wallace, alive or dead, the lands of EUerslie 
Are thine for ever. 

HaL Rest thee sure, my lord, 

I'll do my best to serve you. [Exit Haliburton. 

Com. Ay, and to serve thyself. Thou art a villain. 
But I have need of thee. The death of Wallace 
Removes a stumbling-block waylays me ever, ;. 

And binds, to boot, King Edward for my debtor. 
Pembroke, my brother-in-law, is angling cunningly 
In this same pool — But I will be before him. • [Exit. 



. TOE WOOD — Wallace's oak. 

(^Enter Wallace, who walks about for some time thoughtfully. 
He starts suddenly., and looks upward.^ 

'Tis but the eagle : — I have startled him — 

He loves his freedom, and he's gone to find it 

In yonder mountain world. With what a wing 

Of fearless majesty he navigates 

The vast concavity ! — Aye westward, westward. 

To the dark G-rampians ! — What a scene is there ! — 

A sm-gy swell of masses multitudinous, 

As if the flood, lashed by the equinox 

Storming the heavens, had, even in mid swell 



64 WALLACE. 

Been turned to stone, and fixed in monument ! — 
that I had thy wing ! I too would fly 
From tyrants and be free, beyond those ramparts, 
On whose rough front the finger of th' Eternal 
Hath writ — -" Proud spoiler^ hither mayst thou come, 

And not beyond." But ha ! 

Was it presentiment the wish I breathed ? 

Or thy flight augury, co-citizen bird ! 

Partak'st with me the populous hostelage 

Of this time-hallowed tree ? — Art thou my sentinel, 

Warns me at need look to my liberty 

With organ jealous and awake as thine ? 

I think 'tis even so.— Foeman or friend, 
FootstejTs are near.— Then to my sanctuary, 
My forest fortalice not built with hands. 

(^Conceals himself ivithin the hollow trunk of the great oak^ 

Enter Haliburton. 

Heavens, what a noble oak ! old friend, I warrant me 
Thou hast stood there ere Fergus owned a crown — 
These fifteen hundred years. There's no mistaking it, 
It is my mark. The cottage must be near. 

[Exit into the wood. 



%tz\xt Biit'tlj. 
ELSfETH WYLIE's €0TTAGE. 

{Enter from it Haliburton and Elspeth.) 

Elsp. The wood is wide, sir . — I'm a poor lone woman 
T cannot travel far; — and do not know 



WALLACE. 66 

Who may be in 't or not. 

Hal. N'ay, do not fear me. 

I know he 's liere : — I am the friend of Wallace : — 
From good Earl Malcolm I am sent to him, 
The bearer of great news. And more in token 
That I am in his trust, — I know that Kerle 
And Irish Stephen are in hiding with him : — 
My name is Haliburton. 

Elsp. What ! — Ealph Haliburton, 

That fought so nobly with Sir William Oliphant 
At Stirling siege ? 

Hal. The same. 

Elsp. Thou must be honest, 

For thou art brave. 

Hal. I pray thee guide me to him — 

There 's for thy pains. (offering money.') 

Elsp. (aside). A bribe ! ho ! ho ! I guess thine errand now. 
I cannot guide thee, for I do not know 
If he be here : — But I '11 go call my son. 
He knows the Torwood — if within its bounds, 
Be sure he '11 find him out. Pray enter here, 
While I go seek my boy. 

[Exit Haliburton into the cottage. 



THE WOOD near THE COTTAGE. 

(Enter Elspeth and David Wylie.) 

Elsp. A score ! saidst thou ? — a score of followers ? 
David W. Of catchpole knaves, armed to the very teeth- 



66 WALLACE. 

Elsp. my dear boy, call thy best wits about thee, — 
Lead them astray — Grive me good time to. warn him, 
And Wallace time to flee. 

David. Content thee, mother — 

Leave all to me : — I will so order it, 
Wallace may make his choice to fight or flee. 

(Halibukton comes forth from the cottage.) 

Elsp. This is my son, sir, 

He 's but a simple lad, and no that gleg ; 
But not a wild cat in the wood knows better 
The crooks and caves : and if the man ye want 
Be i' the Torwood, Davie will find him out. 

[Exit Elspetii. 

Hal. Come, my good lad, thou know 'st where Wallace is, 
Dost not ? 

Dav. Ay, may-be, whare, or whareabouts. 

Hal. {Blows a whistle gently. His men come forivard.) 

Thou It lead us to the place. 

Dav. Na. 

Hal. Look thee here. [holding up a purse.) 

Dav. Is 't gowd or siller ? 

Hal. It is gold, my boy. 

Dav. Then gi'e me it. I '11 bring ye near enough. 
If so ye binna feared. 

Hal. Feared, silly boy ! 

And twenty of us ! 

Soldiers. Ha ! ha ! ha ! 

Dav. Weel, sirs, laugh an ye like — but in your shoes 
I wadna stand ! — no, for that muckle purse, [holding it up.) 
[Soldiers laugh contemptuously.) 



WALLACE. 67 

Hal. Feared, boy, or not, come, lead us to tlie spot. 

{Exeunt^ hut immediately re- appear^ descending into a rocky 
dell^ environed on every side by precipitous crags covered 
with underwood^) 

Hal. This is a frightful place — a fit abode 
For outlaw or for robber : — how call ye it ? 

Dav. The Howlat's Neuk : — it 's no a chancy place : — 
I 'm glad you 're here — I wadna be my lane in 't 
For a' the lands o' Comyn. 

Hal. Wherefore, boy ? * 

Dav. Gude safe us a' ! — they say that Fadoun's ghost 
Walks here o' nights. 

Hal. Fadoun — and who was Fadoun ? 

Dav. An Irishman — 

A devil's bairn had pactioned to sell Wallace 
To the Southron folk, somewhere ayont Perth, 
And Wallace sued his craig — did he no weel, sir. 
To sic a rascal ? 

Hal. Peace ! thy tongue runs restive — 

You 're sure you know the place ? 

Dav. Oo yes, brawly — 

And that you '11 see belive — just follow me. 

{Enters a crevice of the rock and disappears.) 

Hal. Where is he now ? — We cannot follow thee — 
A fox could hardly enter there : — boy ! — Davy ! — 
Let some one try the passage. 

(Soldiers crowd round the entrance: meanwhile the blast of a 
bugle is heard as if on the other side.) 

Ha ! what is that ? '[Exeunt. 



68 WALLACE. 

Wallace's oak. 

(Wallace issues from the tree. Enter hastily.^ from different 
points^ Kerle and Stephen of Irelmid.) 

Ker. There 's something in the wind ! 'twas Davie's note. 
Steph. There is, past doubt ; and here he comes himself, 

(Enter David Wylie hastily.) 

Wall. What now, my trusty watch ? 

Dav. Just the old news, sir. 

Your hunters are afoot ; they've scented you. — 
A score, full armed, for rogue by rogue I counted them. 

Wall. So, so ; where left 'st thou them ? 

Dav. I' the Howlafs Neuk. 

Caged in my rat-trap. Let 's upon the traitors ; 
And when we 've thinned them by some half-a-score, 
With our good arrows, from the rocks above, 
Then sword in hand, into the open space. 
And brush them beard to beard. 

Wall. My faithful boy, 

Thy wit is ever ready, and thy soul 
Hath ta'en true knighthood at the touch of heaven. 
Thou 'st planned it bravely ; be our general, 
And we will follow thee. 

\_Exeunt., following David Wylie. 



WALLACE. 69 

THE HOWLAT's NEITK. 

(Haliburton and his men seen surrounding the mouth of the 
cave. A soldier issues from it.) 

Sold. I dare not venture farther ; it is endless ; 
It branches every way ; 't is dark as hell ; 
It may be full of men. 

Hal. But yet methought 

The blast we heard was in the open air, 
And on the farther side. 

2 Sold. We are entrapped. 

That boy was knave, not fool ; I thought so ever. 
His talk indeed was idiot ; but his eye, 
Quick as a hawk's, was full of mind and mischief. 
We must retrace our steps. 

(David Wylie appears on the top of the rocks above them.) 

Dav. Beware of Fadoun's ghost ! he 's in that cave ; 
There '11 be a pair of them ere long — a brace 
Of traitor ghosts to dance to the howlat's singing. 

Tial. Thou villain ! art thou there ? 

Dav. Another purse 

As big as that, and I will show you Wallace. 

(Wallace now appears on the rocks; and, at other points, 
Kerle and Stephen. 

Wall. What ! Haliburton ! Is it possible ? 
(Jan it be thou ? Ealph Haliburton, — he 



70 WALLACE. 

Who fought SO gloriously with William Oliphant 
In that immortal siege ! And hast thou taken 
The devil's arles ? Hast thou, too, found it easier 
To deal with English arrows tipped with steel 
Than capped with gold ? Edward, I half forgive thee, 
When Scotland breeds such sons, who can condemn 
Thy hope to round her with the rings of shame ? 

Hal. Wallace, surrender thee ! Thou seest our numbers. 

Dav. (taking aim., and discharging an arroiv) 
There 's one the less already. 

Wall. Well aimed, my noble boy ; there 's one to match it. 
Stephen, well shot ! Kerle, thou hast hit thy mark. 
Another round like this, and we may close with them, 
They '11 be but two to each of us. Ah ! they have found 
The only outlet ; let us down on them ! [ExeAint. 



AN OPEN SPACP: IN THE WOOD NEAR THE PEECEDING SCENE. 

(Wallace, Kekie, Stephen, David Wylie ; Halibeiiton 
Ijjing on the ground icounded. The bodies of his followers 
scattered around. ) 

Hal. In mercy kill me ! 

Wall. Thou deservest no mercy, 

And therefore live. Thou art the hangman's due, 
A soldier's sword must not be soiled with thee. 
Beccone and live, if shame will let thee live. 



(Coming away from him.) 



WALLACE. 71 

And now, brave friends, 't is time we changed our roost. 
Then westward, ho ! to our old lair i' the Lennox ! 
Shift for yourselves : ye know our trysting-place. 
Farewell, my faithful boy. 

Dav. ^'^y^ I go with thee. 

Wall. Dear boy, I must not let thee, tho' I love thee. 
Thy two brave brothers perished at my side 
On Falkirk moor. I 'v^e cost thy mother dear ; 
T must not leave her childless. 

Dav. My brothers died as Scotsmen ought to die — 
As 't was their prayer they should. They sleep together 
In the Faw-Kirk, close by the gallant Gr^me : 
And every Scot that makes his pilgrimage 
To the Groeme's grave, droppeth a blessing also, 
Balmed in a tear, upon the grassy mound 
That monuments their rest. As to my mother. 
Her blessing follows or forsakes her child, 
As he forsakes or follows William Wallace. 

Wall. Well, well, my noble boy. Thy love hath drawn 
Rain from a wasted spring. I pity thee. 
But cannot say thee nay. 
Scotland ! I traduced thee in my haste : 
Thy Haliburtons are but monstrous births. 
These {embracing David Wylte and grasping Keele's hand) 
are thy genuine sons. \_Exeimt. 



END or ACT II. 



WALLACE. 



ACT III. 



BOTHWELL CASTLE, THE EESIDENCE OF SIE AYMER DE VALENCE. 

[Enter Lady Comyn mid Sir John Menteith.) 

Ladi/ C. Nay, fie on thee, Menteith ! thou 'dst play the 
creditor, 
And I not yet thy debtor. That thou claimest, 
Thou hast not earned. 

Ment. Lady, I go to earn it, 

And love will lend me wings. 

Ladi/ C. Pray Heaven he lend thee 

Discretion too, and courage ; thou 'It have need, 
Or I misdouht, of both, ere William Wallace 
Sings in thy cage a captive. 

Memt. Doubt me not, 

Can I lack either, when the stake I play for 
Is one might fire a hermit, nerve a coward. 
And lend a changeling brains — thy lovely self? 

Lady C. (laughing). Ay, ay. Sir Knight, there is another 
stake, 
A rival mistress, one whose charms outlast 
The proof of wear and weather, — on whose features 
Time cannot write a wi'inkle or a crowfoot ; 



WALLACE. 73 

A mistress dowered with princely plenishing 
Of mountain, forest, lake, and lowland stratli : — 
Indeed, Sir Knight, it is a goodly stake, 
And worth the playing for. 

Ment. Thou speak'st in riddles ; 

What mistress dost thou mean ? 

Lady G. The bonny lordships 

Of Lennox and Menteith. 

Ment. Lady, thou wrong'st me — 

'Eore heaven, thou dost. Not all thy brother's gold. 
Not the broad earldoms that Edward proffers me. 
Nay, not my country's peace — ^which I prize more — 
Whose bane is William Wallace, — not all these 
Could gird me to this deed, but for the hope. 
The dearer hope beyond. lady, lady ! 
For love, the hoard of years, for blighted hopes. 
For vows once heard unscorned — for all my youth 
Wasted in dreams of heaven, to wake in hell, 
Thou owest me usury of reparation. 
Oh, thou hast wronged me much ! 

Lady C. I wronged thee not. 

Thou know'st my story all. I was the victim 
Of cursed state-craft. Scotland's mightiest peer. 
Sir John de Comyn, at whose bugle's call 
Full sixty belted knights, with all their followers, 
Are bound to don their arms, and do his bidding. 
Did sue my hand. — King Edward and my brother 
Esteemed him worth the bribing. I was the bribe. 
My hand they gave, — my heart they could not give him. 

Ment. (kneeling). Then lady, by the love, the maddening 
love, 
Hopes nursed in happier years — the burning vows — 



74 WALLACE. 

Lady C. Rise, rise, I pray thee, in the name of Heaven ! — 
Thy rashness frightens me ; 't will make me rue 
Our half-completed bond. Achieve thy promise, 
And look for mine, — for such reward as gratitude. 
Mingled, it may be, 

With other thoughts and old remembrances. 
In woman's soul, will not be cold to pay thee — 

• {Holds out her hand to him^ which he kisses ferverdhj ) 

Now for the work in hand. Thou 'st seen my brother ? 

Ment. Even now I parted from the noble Pembroke 
At Ruglen Kirk ; he 's gone to place some troops 
At my disposal. 

Lady C. Then, your plan is ripe ? 

Ment. Ay ; ere another sun hath glassed himself 
In the still lake, as, from Benlomond's top, 
He bids the world good-night, within the walls 
Of grey Dunbarton, Wallace is my prisoner. 
Wouldst thou vouchsafe me thy fair presence there. 
Thou 'dst see him in his cage ; and, if it pleasure thee. 
With thy fair finger on the lion's neck 
Kivet the chain thyself. 

Lady C. Menteith, I own 

'T would pleasure me. But peril not our play 
By over-confidence. The man thou mell'st with 
Hath brains as well as brawn. Thou know'st how oft, 
'G-ainst odds and opportunities that make 
His every day a tale, out-miracling 
The deeds of errant knight in minstrel rhyme, 
Or devil- quelling saint in ghostly legend. 
He 's left his hunters in the lurch, and laughed at them. 

Ment. Ay, but he's laughed his last. 



WALLACE. 75 

Lady C. So deemed his hunters 

At Elcho Park, at Gartlan, and at Torwood, 
And yet thou know'st the upshot. 

Ment. But this time 

He 's meshed beyond redemption or retreat, 
Had he the devil to back him. 

Lady C. Well, Menteith, 

I will not fail thee at Dunbarton Castle 
To-morrow eve, wer 't but to laugh at thee, 
Shouldst thou miscarry. 

Ment. If I prosper, lady, 

What then? 

Lady C. Why, then, the laugh 's with thee, 

And thou, I dare to say, wilt not be slack 
To use thy vantage, and to claim the forfeit. 

Ment. By heaven ! I shall not ; to secure the which 
I fly on wings of fire. Till then, farewell. 

Lady C. Farewell, Menteith. [£'a:zY Menteitu. 

Farewell, thou devil's own, 
That dost out- Judas Judas ! Out upon thee, 
Thou soulless wretch ! Thy friend and schoolfellow, 
That fought in battle by thy side, and laid 
His head on the same pillow after it. 
As by a twin-born brother ; — that same head 
That 's worth a kingdom's price, and bears on it 
A kingdom's fate, thou to the butcher's knife 
Sell'st for a ruffian's hire ! And dost thou dare, 
Grraced with thy hangman's trophies, to insult 
Joan de Valence with thy love or lust ? 

But I have sworn revenge : I 've need of thee. 
Wallace has scorned me : and Joan de Yalence 
Is of a race to love, or to revenge, 



76 WALLACE. 

By whole, not half. The work I have on hand 
Is devil's work, and needs a devil's helping. 

[Exit. 



^zznz ^ttonh. 



LONDON THE PALACE. 



(Edward, with the Earls of Hereford and Gtloster, Bishop 
Bek, and other lords. He hands them some papers, at 
which they look, passing them to each other. Edward 
rises from his seat and walks about angrily.) 

Edward. How think ye, lords, of that ? 
Is 't not a nest of vipers, — a foul dunghill. 
On whose hot surface, spite of all my weeding. 
Crop after crop, of rebels and of traitors. 
Springs up to full-grown rankness, without end ? 
What think 'st thou now. Lord Gloster, of thy friend 
De Bruce ? Is he not every inch a Scot ? 

Gl. My liege, 'twould seem so, if this document 
Be worth the crediting. 

Ed. He 'd be, forsooth, 

A king, would he ! then, by my halidome. 
He shall be king, and, at his crowning, have 
The hangman for his bishop. 

Gl. And that damned double-visaged villain, Comyn. 
Shall he not, good my lord, have the like honour, 
At the same worthy hand ? Of his own showing here. 
He's been a rebel, to whitewash the which 



WALLACE. 77 

He turns informer. First, the sworn confederate, 
Next, the betrayer of the friend did trust 
His honour and his oath. There is no crediting 
Aught from a wretch like this. — 

Ed. But all this, Gloster, 

Was for my service. 

Gl. Grood, your Grrace, forgive me, 

'T was for his own, or I misknow the man. 

Bet. But Bruce's treason, good my lord of Grloster, 
Doth not rest solely on De Comyn's vouching : — 
There 's circumstance to back it. My Lord Pembroke 
Writes here of gatherings in the west : that Wallace, 
Lord Lennox, Moray, and Sir Simon Fraser, 
Have left their hiding-place : that Edward Bruce 
Is mustering Annandale : and that 'tis bruited. 
And of most general credit through the land. 
That Robert Bruce hath set a tryste with them. 
Naming the place, the very day, whereon 
To give them meeting, and to take on him 
The style and state of Scotland's sovereignty. 

[^Enter a Servant. 

Serv. My lord the king. 

Two messengers from Scotland, and in haste. 
From th' Earl of Pembroke and the Lord of Badenach. 

[Gives two sealed packets into the king's hands, and exit.) 

Ed. Ha ! here 's a dish of comfort, lords. De Valence 
Doth here inform me the arch-traitor Wallace 
Hath fallen into his trap, and, ere this reaches me, 
Will be fast prisoner in Dunbarton Castle ; 
For certainty whereof, he and Menteith 
Do both impledge their heads. And here, moreover. 



78 WALLACE. 

From the Lord Badenach I learn, his cousin, 
Sir James de Comyn's on his journey hither, 
Bringing th' indenture, with the hand and seal 
Of Bruce himself, to certify the treason 
Whereof he doth impeach him. Good, my Lord 
Of Grloster, call me Sir John Segrave hither, 
T' attach the traitor's person : then attend me 
To the council-hall : this is a business 
May not he dallied with. Follow me, lords. 

[Exeunt all hut Gtloster. 

Gl. Ah, my poor friend ! thy neck is in the noose. 
And he that holds it hath a hangman's grip ! 
There is no mercy, nor no mother's milk, 
In that fell bosom ; and the man would snatch 
The purposed victim from his lynx's eye. 
And tiger clutch, 
Must deal in magic or in miracles. 

Is there no v/ay to save him ? For, Heaven sain me ! 
I read no treason in 't, but wish his cause. 
With all my soul, God-speed. Were I a Scot, 
I 'd do what Bruce doth. On my native soil 
Of merry England, were a foreign foot 
To trample it, or dared a foreign tyrant 
Wreathe round the free-born necks of Englishmen, 
His despot's iron collar, as in Scotland 
It hath been done by Edward, then, by Heaven ! 
Keep he aback who should, Ralph de Monthermer 
Would risk his neck, ay, every hour o' the day, 
And every day o' the year, to work their riddance, 
And do his country right. Is there no way ? 

[Pondering.) 

Ha ! Bruce is quick of wit, ready and capable, 



WALLACE. 79 

I've heard him construe riddles for the nonce, 
Would give old (Edipus himself the megrims. 

[Looking at his spw^red heel.) 
By Heaven, the very thing ! I have it here : 
I must not lose a moment. 

\_Exit hastily. 



in 



beuce's lodgings. 

[Enter Bruce, Lindsay, and a Servant ; Bruce holding 
his hand a pair of gilt spurs and a purse of gold.) 

Br. And from my noble friend, 

Ralph de Monthermer,* Earl of Gloster, saidst thou ? 

Serv. Even so, my lord. 

Br. What did he charge thee farther? 

Serv. He bade me speed to thee, and with such haste 
As life or death were in't : be sure to find thee, — 
Commend him to thee, and, with hearty thanks, 
Return the loan that he had borrow'd of thee. 
Whereof thy need, as thou didst notice him. 
Is of most pressing and immediate urgency. 

Br. And said he nought besides ? 

Serv. No, my good lord, save earnest repetition 



* Ealph De Monthermer married Joan of Acres, widow of Gilbert 
de Clare Earl of Gloster, and was permitted to use the title of Gloster 
during the minority of his stepson, who was the king's ward. 



80 WALLACE. 

To prove my speed, and bring him back assurance 
That I had spoke thyself. 

Br. Where is Lord Gloster ? 

Serv, At council with the king, — wherefrom, in haste 
He did come forth, much — as it seemed to me — 
Disturbed in mood, — and having lessoned me, 
Returned forthwith. 

Br. Bear to the noble Gloster 

My humble service, and my hearty thanks. 

[Exit Servant. 
Ha ! Lindsay, there's a mystery in this, 
More than the seeming bears. — 
What can Monthermer mean ? 

Lind. And doth he mean, then. 

More than his message bore ? Did you not send 
To crave repayment of the loan ? 

Br. No, Lindsay : 

I never lent Monthermer spurs or gold, 
Nor is he given to jesting. With the king 
At council, and disturbed ! So said his messenger. 
Now, all the saints forfend, they should have seized 
The herald Grimsby on his way to Scotland, 
And found my letters on him ! 

Lind. Letters, my lord ! 

For whom ? 

Br. For Wallace and my brother Edward. 

There 's hanging matter in these letters, Lindsay, 
Should Edward light on them. I hope he has not ; 
But there is danger, whatsoe'er the cause. 
Monthermer is my friend ; his double gift 
Doth token danger, and necessity 
For instant flight, and far. We must to horse, — 



WALLACE. 81 

Off to the north ! Our neck 's in jeopardy, 

Till we have placed the Cheviot and the Tweed 

Betwixt us and the hangman. Haste thee, saddle us 

Our two best steeds, the fleetest and the strongest ! 

Our life 's upon the wheel, and doth depend 

Even on a single turn. At the back postern 

Abide me : I'll be with thee instantly. [^Exit Lindsay. 

Ho ! who waits there ? 

(Enter Servant.) 
I 'm to my cabinet 
With Sir James Lindsay, and on urgent business, 
Let none disturb us — on thy peril see to 't — 
Of what degree soever till I call thee. \_Exit. 

Serv. I'll see to it, my lord. 

[Exit. 



SCENE CHANGES TO SCOTLAND THE NEIGHBOUEHOOD 

OF GLASGOW. 

{Enter Wallace and Menteith.) 

Ment. Ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! Nay, Wallace, pardon me, 
I cannot choose but laugh ! It is i' faith, 
A right good homily. Old Sinclair's self. 
The Bishop of Dunkeld, might grudge thy gift ; 
I 've heard a worse from him. Thou 'rt grown fantastical 
Thy brain 's abreed with maggots. Thou 'It turn visioner, 
Or don the monk's hood, if this humour lasts. 



82 WALLACE. 

Wall. No, no, Menteitli ; I'm not i' the beadsman's vein. 
Nor is't the mood o' the moment. 
Thou wouldst not have me what the Southron dames 
Do picture me, to hush their squalling brats, 
And fright them from the crying, — a fierce OgTe, 
Who every morning laves his hands with blood, 
And then goes forth to slay men for his pastime ! 

I am in truth aweary of the life 
That evil times, and an enforced necessity, 
Have yoked me to. I 've been too long, Menteith, 
A man of blood, and I have need of leisure 
For self-communion, and a shriving-time 
To even accounts with Heaven. 

Ment. worse and worse ! 

Did I not guess aright ? shall I bespeak thee 
A cowl and cell in bonny Tnchmahome ? 

Wall. In Inchmahome ! Ah ! dost thou mind, Menteith, 
The happy hours we spent not far from it. 
Where thine own castle, on its island nest, 
Doth crown the centre of the lone Loch Rusky ? 
Were not those happy times ? We had not then on us 
The taint of blood, — save of the glutton ged, 
The tyrant of the lake ; or the fleet roebuck, 
That many a weary mile, o'er moss and moor, 
Led us by Lubnaig lake, or up the steep 
Of dark Benledi. for that life again ! 

Ment. What ! not a word of thine old paradise, 
Whereof thou gav'st me keeping ? There too, Wallace, 
We have been merry, have we not ? 

Wall. Ay, old Dunbarton! I do love thee well. 
Oft on thy peak, smitten by sun and storm, 
Bushless and bleached, scarred with the dint of centuries, 



88 



Down the uuscaleable and fissured steep, 
I 've gazed agiddy, watching the Atlantic, 
That from far western worlds, yet unexplored 
And nameless, did his murmured worshipping — 
For so did fancy deem — as he did bathe 
The blessed rock that gave lerne's saint, 
The holy Patrick, birth. From the 'yond shore 
Meanwhile of Clyde, fringed with its balmy birchwoods, 
Touched by the breath of May, the gentle south 
Came kissingly across, dispensing health. 
Dispensing fragrance ! These were hours, indeed ! 
Sweetly they sped, and left no heartsore after them. 
T\Tien shall we lead that happy life again ? 

Ment. Sooner, mayhap, than thou dost reckon of: 
But tell me, Wallace, how dost like my nephew ? 
I hope thou find'st him apt and serviceable ? 

Watt. Oh ! 't is a youth of promise ; shrewd of wit : 
I thank thee for him. In my present shifts 
He is a treasure to me. 

Me?it. I 'm glad thou find'st him so. W'hate'er his wifr^ 
I certify his will. When thou hast need 
For secrecy and trustworth messenger, 
He '11 pass betwixt us : thou may'st unbosom to him 
As to myself. I pra}?- thee, send him to me 
With thy first news of Bruce. 

WaU. Be sure I fail not. 

Ment. "VMiere dost thou roost to-night ? 

WaU. That is a secret 

I tell to very few : but thou art of them : 
And therefore know my hostel for this night 
Is even hard by ; my castle is a barn. 



84 WALLACE. 

Ment. then, I guess the place ; — Kobroyston barn, 
Is 't not? 

Wall. Even so. 

Ment. And how art thou attended ? 

Wall. Save honest Kerle, and thine own trusty nephew, 
I have none other company. 

Ment. Ha ! where 's 

Stephen of Ireland, and that pearl of pages. 
Thy little Davy ? 

Wall. Stephen 's to the south. 

For tidings of De Bruce : and, as for Davy, 
He 's my intelligencer. He has eyes. 
Ears, and a wit to use them. He 's abroad 
To gather news. 

Ment. Well, for a life so precious. 

Thou art but poorly guarded : and so near, too. 
The tiger's deadliest lair ; so near the strongholds 
Of stern De Clifford, and of subtle Yalence ! 

Wall. 'Tis that makes safety in the smallest number. 
Thou know'st I 've set a tryste with Bruce, to meet him 
Upon midsummer night, on the Borough-moor : 
I must not be far off. 

Ment. And Heaven itself. 

For Scotland's sake, will guard thee, and rain down 
Shame and confusion on thine enemies. 
But fare-thee-well ! I must with haste to Glasgow, 
Ere the night fall. Be sure to give me warning 
When Bruce arrives. 

Wall. Oh, trust to me, Menteith. 

I 've many friends, and thou art of the chiefest. 

[Exeunt. 



WALLACE. 85 

§tnr,c Jifllj. 

NEAR THE SAME. 

[Enter Menteith and John Short M'Aulay.) 

Ment. Thou understandest me. Grive not the signal 
Till they be sure asleep. 

M^Aulay. I am their butler. 

They '11 sleep the sooner, and they '11 sleep the sounder. 

Ment. And mind their weapons well. 

M^A. I 'm school'd enough ; 

And should I blunder it, I put this head, 
And all that 's in 't, in pawn. 

Ment. Bestir thee, boy. 

When I am Earl of Lennox and Menteith, 
Thou wilt not lack thy wage. 

M'A. Uncle, I 've that 

Which pricks me on without ; my brother's blood 
Is on his sword ; my wage is my revenge. 

[Exeunt severally. 



a wood NEAE the SCOTTISH BOEDER. 

{Enter Bruce and Lindsay covered with dust, and as if just 
dismounted, after a long journey.) 

Br. Ugh ! by St. Kentigern ! but all my bones 
Are on the ache. We 've done a feat to-day 



86 WALLACE. 

To brag on, Lindsay, o'er the blazing billet, 

When beards do wag at Yule. We 've rode the brooze — 

Lind. x\nd won it too, I hope. 

Br. I hope so too ; 

Though it has made us chase the flying crow 
O'er ditch and dyke, o'er mountain and o'er hollow, 
Like mad moss-troopers in a border foray. 

Our gallant steeds have need of breathing space. 
And bravely they have earned it. Here 's a spot 
That wooes us temptingly. There 's for om- horses 
Herbage and running stream ; and for their masters, 
Shade and a sward of velvet. Let us rest us. 

{They sit downJ) 

Lindsay, for this long hour I have been musing 
r)n what thou 'st said of Comyn. By St. Paladie ! 
I think thou judgest hardly of him ; though 
I own thou 'st shook my faith somewhat. 

Lind. My lord, 

I have spoke freely, of my love to you, 
What long time I have thought. The grounds I stated 
Are strong in circumstance ; they are no more ; 
Thou must not reck of them but as hereafter 
Thine own observance, and J)e Comyn's acts, 
May give the comment. 

Br. I will watch him, Lindsay, 

And that right narrowly. They have in Badenach, 
Comyn's own country, in the native tongue, 
A rhyming rede familiar as a proverb, 
Phrases no flattery of the Comyn race. 

Lind. How runs it ? 

Br. In my rendering it run.** thus : — 



i 



WALLACE. 87 

While there doth grow green tree in wood, 
There ivill he guile in Comyn's blood. 

Lind. God grant, my lord, it be not prophecy, 
And of your finding true. 

Br. Ha ! Lindsay, look ; 

What men be these ? They seek to shun us, seeming 
As if they knew, and yet would fain avoid us. 
By all the saints ! the cousin and the doer 
Of the Lord Badenach's self! Sir James de Comyn; 
And posting south the Tweed ! Some mystery 's here, 
It boots us to unravel. \_Exeunt. 



Scene Seireiit^. 

A GLADE IN THE SAME WOOD. 

(Enter Sir James Comyn, and ^b.\]Q^ following him.) 

Sir J. C. Nay, good my lord, there 's nothing in the packet 
That aught importeth thee. 

Br. How knowest thou that ? 

Lord Badenach 's my friend, conjunct and sworn ; 
He hath no secrets from me. In that packet 
There may be matter that shall cause me turn 
My steps a-south, and save me farther travel. 
I prithee give it me. 

Sir J. C. I have it not. 

Br. I saw thee have it, scant a minute past. 

Sir J. C. My fellow hath it ; he hath gone before 
To the hostelry. We are on speed, and lack 
Fresh horses for our journey. 



88 WALLACE. 

(Enter Fergus, his sword drawn, followed hy Lindsay, with 
his sword also drawn.) 
Fergus ! ha ! 
What means this broil ? 

Ferg. This gentleman, perforce. 

Would rob me of the packet I Ve in charge, 
And I did make resistance. 

Sir J. C. Thou didst well. 

Br. Sirrah, surrender it ! 

Sir J. C. Lord Carrick, pardon me : 

'T is trusted to my charge ; I may not peld it, 
Nor shall, but with my life. 

Br. Then shalt thou yield it, 

Even mth thy life. The time 's too pressing, sir. 
To be bestowed on parley. Thou didst know me — 
Didst know me as his friend, secret and sworn, 
On whose affairs thou hast confessed to me 
Thou now art journeying ; yet wouldst thou shun me : 
And being barred thyself, wouldst speed thy varlet 
Upon his stealthy flight ; — I have some cause 
To doubt De Comyn's faith. Thy conduct now 
Arms doubt with circumstance. I'll be resolved. 
The packet or thy life ! 

Sir J. C. Neither, De Bruce. {Drawing his sword.) 

Fergus, stand fast ! We cannot bring our chief 
Offering more welcome then his en'my's head. 

Br. His en'my's head ! Then, Lindsay, he 's the villain 
Thou held'st him for. Now. traitors, for yom' life ! 

[Exeunt fighting 



WALLACE. 89 

ANOTHER GLADE IN THE SAME WOOD. 

(E)efer Bruce and Lindsay, their sicords bloody; Bruce 
reading an open packet.) 

Br. Look, Lindsay, look ! the very deed we sealed 
And swore to secret keeping at Camb'skenneth ! 
And there the traitor's letter to King Edward. 
Wherein he speaks of former messages, 
And new repeats his earnest counselling 
To have me taken off. This man-sworn wretch ! 
Lindsay, thou 'st read him right. To horse ! to horse ! 
Mettle and muscle they must furnish yet 
Till they have borne us to the fox's den. 
He 's at Dumfries : so shows this tell-tale missive ; 
There shall we find and dole him his deserts. 

[Exeinit. 



END OF act III. 



90 W.ALLACE. 



ACT lY. 



KOBROYSTOK BAUK IN THE NElGHBOURHOOB OF GLASGOW 

TIME, NIGHT. 

(Wallace, walking about in the interior of the harn,^ agitated.) 

WalL Away I away ! it is but mockery. — 
The sense did play me false. I 've heard of such things — 
Of shapes seen dancing in the airy void, 
And grinning spectres, when the blood 's a-fever. 
'Twas but a fire-flaught, that the fretted nerve 
Struck from a feverish brain, and fancy's fooling 
Did shape to semblance of a thing that was. 

Ha ! there again ! This is no mockery. 
No cozening of the sense. It glares on me. 
Even as I saw 't at Gask, distinct and horrible. 
thou mysterious, intangible terror, 
That tak'st the only shape I may not look 
With unblenched cheek upon ! hadst thou but aught 
Doth kin with flesh and blood, I 'd question thee, 
And force confession with this argument. — 

( Waving his sivord.) 

But as thou art, by Him that thou and I 
Must answer to, I do adjure thee, Fadoun, 



WALLACE. 91 

Or whatsoe'er thou be, that dost inherit 

The form was his, — why thus, a second time, 

Dost thou, an ominous, unearthly guest, 

Steal on my noon of night? Speak, I adjure thee. 

Thou smilest, but speakest not ; and in thy smile 
There is a sneer, a cold, malignant joy 
Shoots, like an ice-bolt, through me. Ha! evanished! 
Where but the levin's flash could perviate, 
Nor left thy mark of passage ! No ! by heaven ! 
This is no fantasy ; nor can it be 
Foresign of good ; twice hath it come to me. — 
Oh ! that man's blood sits heavy on my soul ; 
I fear I did it rashly. ^ 

{Enter Kerle.) 

Kerle. Methought I heard thee speak. Thy cheek is 
colourless — 
Thou lookest a-wild — thine eye has terror in 't, 
As one new wakened from a horrid dream, 
And yet not all himself. 

Wall. It was no dream. 

Kerle, What was no dream ? 

Wall. Kerle, I did see him there — 

On my soul's hope I did. 

Kerle. Whom didst thou see ? 



^ Another ghostly visitation of this kind is recorded in Scottish history 
— that of the Bastard of Arran (Sir James Hamilton), who had been put 
to death by his orders, to King James the Fifth, at his palace of Linlith- 
gow, April 1546, and which had been interpreted, truly if we may judge 
by the event, as ominous of his approaching end. — Vide Miss Strickland's 
Lives of the Queens of Scotland, vol. i. p. 392. 



92 WALLACE. 

Wall. Fadoun. 

Kerle. Impossible. Thou wert asleep, 

And thou didst dream of him. 

Wall. I was awake — 

I am not more so now. I had just stretched me 
On yonder bench of oak, — my mind a-busy 
With its own communings, when suddenly 
He stood before me, on that very spot 
Where thou stand 'st now. 

Kerle. Thou wert a-doze, half sleeping and half waking, 
Dreaming of Fadoun, and the shape thou sawest 
Was but the flashing of thy heated eye, 
Opening a-sudden on the dark, that startled thee. 
Betwixt asleep and wake. 

Wall. I saw him, Kerle, 

With every faculty of soul and sense. 
In as true action as thine own are now, 
Most horribly distinct. His ghastly head. 
Streaming with blood, showed his ill-favoured features 
In their death-throe, as vivid to the sense 
As when I severed it in Methven wood, 
In my too hasty rage. 

Kerle. He was a traitor. 

And dree'd but his deserts. Thy life, the lives 
Of all, were with thee then, were i' the balance 
In mortal poise 'gainst his, — and made his death 
An act of guiltless and enforced necessity. 

Wall. He was the only man that e'er I slew, 
Except in battle and upon defence. 

Kerle. My lord, thy late fatigues, thy much unrest, 
And thoughts too needless nice touching that traitor, 



WALLACE. 93 

Have worked together to unseat thy health, 
And thou dost need repose. 

(John Short M'Aulay enters.) 
Come hither, boy, 
Hast in thy flagon aught may medicine 
My lord to a sound sleep ? 

M^A. Ay : a medicine 

Will not enforce a wry face in the swallowing. 

( Goes out, and returns with a large silver cup, which he 
hands to Wallace.) 

Wall What ! Bordeaux? 

M^A. Ay, sir, of mine uncle's sending, 

From his own cellar at Dunbarton Castle : 
He did commend it much. 

Wall. It must be good, then : 

Sir John Menteith is wise in vintages, 
And nice withal : and though his heart be Scots, 
He hath a Southron's palate. Here, my boy, 
Here 's to thine uncle and thyself, a health 
From one is largely debtor to you both. 
And hath none other coin to pay withal. 
But thanks and hearty love. Here, pledge me, Kerle. 

Kerle. Nay, pardon me ; 't will make me fall on sleep. 

M^A. Oh, mind not that, good Kerle : I watch to-night. 
And will not touch the cup. 

Kerle. Nay, 't is my watch, boy. 

M'A. Nay, nay, good Kerle : since Stephen went away, 
Thou 'st more than watched thy turn. I fear thou ratest 
My wit or carefulness at small account. 

Kerle. Neither, my boy. Thy wit doth pass thy years, 
Thy faith thy wit. But we 're amid the breakers : 



94 WALLACE. 

The rocks are rife and treaclierous around us : 
Danger doth thrive in darkness, and doth need 
Keen-eyed experience for his opposite. 
When thou hast served apprenticing like mine, 
Thou 'It prove the better sentinel, I doubt not. 

Wall. Nay, Kerle, he 's in the right on 't. Thou of late 
Hast overtasked thy strength. G-ive him his wish — 
I '11 be his voucher. And, besides, to-night 
I 'd have thee by me, for my soul is heavy, 
I am not well in mind. 

Kerle. Well, be it so. 

{Takes the cup and drinks.) 
Young cock, be sure that thou do crow betimes, 
Should there come footsteps near. 

M'A. Oh, fear me not ; 

I will enforce confession from thyself, 
That a young eye can see as far i' the dark. 
And a young ear can hear as far-off footfall 
As e'er an old one. 

Kerle. Grod grant it be so ! 

But keep a good look-out. 

(Wallace and Kerle compose themselves to sleep ; Wallack 
on an oaken bench or settle ; Kerle on the ground^ some- 
vjhai nearer the door. M'Aulay goes out., hut in a short 
time returns., at first cautiously opening the door and listening., 
then approaching gently on tiptoe., first to Kerle, then to 
Wallace.) 

M^A. My seasoned cup hath done his duty bravely ; 
They're on the snore already. Time is now 
My signal were alight. 



WALLACE. 95 

[Exit, but immediately returns and cautiouslij removes his bugle 
from around "Wallace's neck, then his sword, dagger, bow 
and arrows; in like manner removes 1^^^\jE^ ^ a7'ms : goes 
to a narrow slit or aperture in the wall of the barn, and 
hands them to some one without. He then uncloses the door 
of the building and goes out, but immediately returns con- 
ducting a band of English soldiers, who station themselves 
near the doorway. Their leader — to M'Aulay, ivhom he 
accompanies to the bottom of the stage) — 

Our orders are express. Lord Pembroke charged us 

To take them both alive. 

M^A. Then I do prophesy, 

When they are ta'en alive, there will be few of you 

Alive to boast the, deed. 

Off. What ! and but two of them, 

Unharnessed and asleep ! that were a feat 

To brag on, truly ! 

M''A . Nay, the two, I promise you, 

Will ne'er be ta'en alive. Your game is Wallace : 

And to make sure of him, quiet his chamberlain — 

He 's not of mark sufficient to be made 

A raree-show to stare at : yet you'll find 

He 's not a pleasant play-fellow to tilt with, 

Should he awake : and to forfend the which 

I'll give his sleep the rivet. 

{Stabs Kerle ; at the same time making a signal to the soldiers, 
who rush two of them on Kerle, the rest on Wallace.) 
And now, Wallace, 
The Philistines be on thee ! 

Kerle (starting up). Wallace ! Wallace ! 

Villains, unclutch me ; ha ! no sword ; I'm slain. 



96 WALLACE. 

3£'A. {to the soldiers). Away with him ! 

Kerle [faintly, as he is hurried off.) Wallace! awake, awake ! 

Wall. (who has started up at the first cry of Kerle.) 
Whose cry was that ? Was it thy voice, M' Aulay ? 
Ha ! are ye here ? (shaking off his assailants^ unwarned. 

unweaponed, too ! 
AVhere art thou, Kerle? Thy sword, — thy sword, — I pray 

thee ; 
Thy dagger, anything ; — not even my bugle left me ! 
Then there is treachery in 't. But it is not 
The harness makes the soldier — 

( Tearing off a large portion of the lench on which he had 
been lying.) 

With a worse 
I 've done a darg ere now. 

(Rushes on the soldiers, who gradually retreat, till at length they 
are driven out of the apartment, fastening, however, the door 
after them, and leaving Wallace alone within.) 
But where is Kerle ? 
Methought I heard his voice. Was it a dream? 
Or is he slain indeed ? Ha ! some one calls me, 

Ment. (Outside the slit or aperture in the tvall of the barn.) 
Wallace, Wallace ! 

Wall, (going up to the place) Is 't thou, my faithful friend ? 
then Grod be praised. 
Thou art not slain. 

Me7it. It is thy faithful friend. 

Wall. Ha ! 'tis not Kerle : but, or mine ear deceived me. 
It is Menteith. 

Ment. Wallace, it is thy friend. 

Wall. Hand me, I pray, thy sword. I am beset, 



WALLACE. 97 

Nor have not incli of steel ; lend me tliy whinyard, 
I '11 be anon by thee. 

Ment, Alas, my friend ! 

It is impossible. 

Wall. Art thou, too, weaponless ? 

Ment. No ; but — 

Wall. Then 't is no time for buts ; I pray thee, 

What weapon thou hast on. 

Ment. And be thy murderer ! 

Nay, Wallace, pardon me ; I did come hither 
To save thy life, not to abet thy murder. 
There 's no escape for thee : thou art enclosed 
By hopeless numbers, and the brand 's alight 
Already on the thatch, that with a breath, 
A nod, a single glance, in one broad blaze 
Shall wrap thyself and thy frail fortalice. 

I pray thee thy consent, that I may make 
Conditions for thy life. 

Wall. What ! with the Southron ! 

Never, Menteith. They will not mind conditions, 
Nor will I tender them. 

Ment. Nay then, kind Kerle, 

And my poor nephew. Heaven have mercy on you ! 

Wall. Ha ! do they live, then ? 

Ment. Only while I bring 

De Clifford thy resolve. Let me, I pray thee. 
For a brief space, have private parley with thee. [Exit. 

Wall, (alone). As for my life, were that the only question, 
'T were easy of resolving ; but my friends. 
My faithful friends ! Kerle once did save my life, 
And shall I, for a proud punctilio. 
Throw his away ? Or shall I rob my friend 



98 WALLACE. 

Of the brave youth his love did loan me with ? 

It were most base requiting! (Enter Menteith.) 

Well, Menteith, 
What is the price that I must pay for them ? 

Ment. To bide in Edward's peace, nor keep alive, 
Singly, the flame that wastes our wretched country. 

Wall. To bide in Edward's peace ! humph ! well, Menteith ? 

Ment. And dwell a prisoner at large, within 
Dunbarton Castle. 

Wall. What ! a prisoner, 

Saidst thou ? 

Ment. But under keeping of a friend ; — 

Under my wardship. Thy consent, I pray thee. 
What ! not a word ? Thou dost not sure mislike 
Thy keeper, or mistrust him. 

Wall. No, Menteith ; 

But neither like nor trust his co-conditioners. 
They do not mean thee fair. 

Ment. Sir Robert Clifford 

Is of long time my friend ; — he is their leader : — 
From him these terms I tender thee, and under 
The plighted safeguard of his knightly honour. 

Suspecting their design, I hurried after them, 
With what scant force the o'erta'en suddenness 
Did furnish me withal. I have a band 
Of stout M'Aulays from the Levenside, 
Faithful tho' few ; and should he play me false — 
Should he but swerve one tittle from our bond. 
While there remaineth of my band a man, 
And of my blood a drop, I will not 'bate 
A hair's-breadth of thy rights. 

Wall. But with the tryste 

Thou AYot'st of, on the Borough-moor, so near too. 



1 
i 



WALLACE. 99 

Ment. Wallace, that cause thou knowest is clear to me 
As 't is to thee ; and thou dost know, moreover, 
By sacred pact, I 'm pledged to render up 
Dunbarton Castle to its rightful king. 
Soon as De Bruce unfurls his royal banner 
Upon his aative soil. — Bide we our time 
That nut 's not yet a-brown. 

Wall. Well then, Menteith, to thee, and to thine honour, 
I render me, -but to no Southron living. — 
Thou 'rt sure our friends are safe ? 

Ment. And with my life 

I will be bound for theirs. Now let me call 
Some of my followers to bind thine arms. 

Wall. To bind mine arms, Menteith ! Nay, never, never. 
I '11 never yield to that I 

Ment. ^aj; '^ is ^^^ seeming, 

And for thy safety. They '11 mistrust us else. 
The Southrons fear thee so, that from mere terror. 
If thou 'rt at large, they '11 do thee violence. 

WalL Well, be it so ; thou 'It see our terms enforced. 

Ment. On my faith's pledge — with my life's warranty. — 
Leave me to deal with them. 

(Menteith here introduces a hand of M'Aulays, his own 
followers. English soldiers in the distance behind them. 
Wallace o^ers his arms, which the M'Aulays hind securely 
with strong cords. 

Ment. Noble De Clifford, Wallace is thy prisoner. 
I know thou 'It use him as one brave man will 
Another brave man in adversity. 
I go before you to Dunbarton Castle, 

To give thee and thy prisoner due reception. [Exit. 

[Wallace is led out guarded. 



100 WALLACE. 



NEAR THE FORMER. 



(Enter David Wylie.) 

Dav. I do not like this news. Why should De Clifford, 
All o' the sudden, and with such a following, 
Steal from the castle under cloud of night, 
Shaping his course to north ? So much is certain : 
Something 's afoot. I pray they be a watch, 
And Kerle the sentinel : for Heaven assoil me, 
I do not like that youth. Methinks his eye 
Doth speak another language than his tongue, 
And that his acts do over-act affection. 
He hath too much o' the form and phrase of duty 
To have the real'ty. But who comes here ? 
Ha ! can it be ? the very youth I spoke of. 
"What, ho ! M'Aulay, whither art thou bound ? 

{Filter M'AuLAi-. 

31^ A. To the old rock, boy. 

Dav. To Dunbarton Castle ? 

On private mission to thine uncle, ha ! — 
I prithee, where is Wallace ? 

APA. On his voyage 

To the same port. 

Dav. That's sudden. 

M'A. Sudden! ay, 

And unexpected too, I warrant him. 

Dav. Know'st thou what moved him to this sudden shift? 



WALLACE, 101 

APA, "What moves to many shifts — necessity. 

Dav. Ha ! have his hunters scented him again, 
And made him change his lair ? Is he attended ? 

M'A. Ay, like a king ; most royally attended. 
He 's guarded like a king ; he '11 not complain 
Of scant attendance, trust me. 

Dav. Nay, M'Aulay, 

I'm not a riddle-reader, as thou know'st; 
Let my plain question purchase a plain answer — 
I'm not i' the trim for jests. 

M'A. Neither is Wallace, 

Or I misdeem. Faith, 't is no jest for him, 

Dav. What is no jest for him ? 

M'A. To be hand-gyved 

I' the highroad to the gallows. 

Dav. Ha ! what saidst thou ? — 

Nay, nay, it cannot be : for, were it so, 
Thou ne'er couldst make it matter for thy mirth, 
Where's Kerle? 

M'A. Asleep. 

Dav. Asleep ! 

M^A. Ay, in the sleep 

Whence but one blast can wake him, — he is dead, 

Dav. Dead ! 

M^A.' As his grandsire. The Robroyston rooks 

Will croak their grace o'er him ere morrow's eve, 

Dav. Nay, nay, M^Aulay, thou dost time this ill, 
I 'm on the spur of haste : I must see Wallace. 
My news import him much ; it is no jesting time ; 
I prithee, where is he ? 

M'A. I've told thee, fool; 

And told without a jest. He 's to Dunbarton, 



102 WALLACE. 

De Clifford's prisoner ; and I 'm posting affcer 
I' the hope to see him hanged. 

Dav. De Clifford's prisoner i 

Ha ! that doth tell like truth. But, heaven and earth ! 
Why dost thou speak it thus ? Was Kerle not there ? 
Did he not stand by him ? 

j\rA. He was asleep ; 

He 's in a sounder now. 

Dav. And thou, M'Aulay? 

M^A. I was a looker-on ! 

Dav. A looker-on 1 

No more ? 

M^A. yes, more than a looker-on ; 
'T was I did slip the Philistines upon him ; 
'T was I did drug their sleep ; 'twas I provided 
My brave M'Aulays with the hempen withe, 
Did lash his felon arms even to the cracking. 

Dav. And, most reprobate and tenfold devil ! 
Why didst thou do all this ? 

MA. Why did I do it? 

Oh, I have plotted it by night, by day ; 
I 've brooded over it — glutted my fancy with 't ; 
Yea, I have lived upon the thought of it ; 
For weeks it hath been meat and drink to me ; 
My nightly watch I 've made to speed with it ; 
My daily service I have sweetened with it ; 
Rest, rest thee now, poor ghost ! thou art avenged. 

Dav. Avenged; whom talkest thou of ? 

M'A. My brother Aulay 

He slew my only brother in the Torwood, 
By Haliburton's side. 

Dav. By Haliburton's ! 



WALLACE. 103 

Ha ! was thy brother there ? 

Thou hell-born adder of a damned nest, 

That crept 'dst into the bosom thou wouldst sting, 

Know I did help to crush thy reptile brother. 

M^A. Thou help to crush him ! Aulay was a man. 
Ha ! ha ! what ! thou 'rt a chafe young cock'rel, art thou, 
And fain wouldst show a crest, — thou help to crush him ! 
Thou mouse rampant — thou four-foot-nothing Hercules, 
Had I but time and twig to waste on thee, 
I 'd cool thy choler with a birchen pill. 
But I must on — I would not miss the sport ; 
Wilt come and see thy master hang, boy ? 

Dav. Wretch ! 

Thy serpent's eye shall ne'er look on that sight. 
Nay, stir not — strive not — Whence thou ne'er shalt go ; 
Thy foot is on thy grave ; Wallace ! Wallace ! 
Thy wrongs sit heavy on my sword, and on 
This perjured villain's soul. 

{They fight ^ M' Aulay is slain.) 
Lie there and rot. 
The curse of Scotland for thine epitaph ; 
had I done this deed but yesterday ! 

[Exit hastily. 



104 WALLACE. 



3iitxxz ®^trb. 



DUNBARTON CASTLE. 



(Enter Lady Comyn and Jailor.) 

Jail. There is the donjon, lady ; this unlocks it. 

[Presenting a key.) 

Lady C. I thank thee, friend. 

[Exit Jailor. 
But what hath brought me hither ? Till this moment 
I have not dared to ask myself that question. 
To look on him did scorn me, — in his cage, 
And feast on my revenge ? Fie, that were devilish ! 
Ah ! how this tell-tale blood, this fitful tide 
That ebbs and flows in wild alternative 
Of fierce and faint, reveals another hope 
Ere it hath bodied it to shape of thought, — 
Perchance he may relent ; — 
What then ? it comes too late ; I '11 in, however. 
Though it were only but to look on him 
For the last time, and say farewell to him ! 

( Unlocks the door of the dungeon softly ; Wallace discovered, 
chained and asleep.) 

Ha ! fast asleep. Such power hath innocence ! 
I have not slept to-night. How legibly 
Hath Heaven's own finger, on that noble brow. 
Writ MAN ! T dare not look on him, 



WALLACE. 105 

For every look cloth kill a purpose in me — 
Melt to remorse, — awake tke woman in me, 
And shoot a dizzying faintness to my soul. 

were that heart atune to mine, — let prudes. 
Let priests, say what they might, I 'd follow thee. 
Even to the world's end. But hush ! he wakes. 

Wall {rising.) Methought I heard a voice; but it was 
nothing. 
I 've seen o' late what makes me fancy's fool 
In things of sight and sound. 

Lad?/ C. [coming forward.) Nay, 'twas no fancying, 
It was my voice, — the voice of one doth pity thee. 
And shames to find thee here. Ungrateful Scotland ! 
Is this the place, the guerdon thou decreest 
To thy deliverer ? 

Wall. Lady, 't is such a place 

As William Wallace many a year has looked 
To be the tenant of. 

Lady C. That heartless villain ! 

What moved him to this deed ? 

Wall. He is a man. 

Lady C. A man ! say'st thou ! he 's none ; he is a devil ! 
Wallace, wouldst thou be free ? Menteith has sold thee, — 
Ay, to the shambles ; wouldst thou not be free ? — 
Thou answerest not. 

Wall. I 'm not in love with death, 

'Nor much afraid of him : we have been playfellows 
Too long for that. 

Lady C. Thou wouldst accept deliverance 

On terms, wouldst not ? 

Wall. Ay, lady, on such terms 

As honesty and honour might abide with. 



106 WALLACE. 

Lady C. Instance me, now. 

Wall. Strike from mine arms these tangles, 

Restore me my good sword : give me arm's room 
I' tlie open field, and let me feel the breeze 
That sweeps in freedom from the Lennox hills, 
My face a-north : and then, let Kobert Clifi"ord 
Plant him atween, backed by his forty followers, 
And bar my passage thorough, if they may. 
This venture will I for my freedom, lady. 

Lady C. Nay, nay, that will not do ; they will not listen to 't ; 
Is there nought else ? Were love thy ransomer, 
Wouldst thou repay 't with love ? 

(Wallace is silent^ 
Thou dost not answer me. 
If once thou quit these walls, there 's not on earth 
Can stand betwixt thee and a dreadful doom. 
I have some means — it boots not tell thee how — 
While thou art here to work thy franchising : — 
Say thou wilt take me for thy 'scape -fellow, 
And pay me love for love, I '11 follow thee 
Even to the round earth's bourne, — 
Partner thy fortunes, be they winter-blasted, 
Or summer-blossoming ; for the trim terrace, 
I '11 take my pleasure in the forest maze ; 
Exchange my down-bed for a couch of fern ; 
My carved chamber for a moss-brown cave ; 
Make me a palace of the outlaw's den, 
And turn the wild-wood to a paradise ! 
Thou wilt not say me nay — 

Wall. Lady, 't were easy, 

Could I but stoop my manhood to the task. 
To cozen credence with a glozing tale. 



WALLACE, 107 

Framed to the need, — ^like to the skallow vow 
Made by the hypocrite i' the hurricane, 
That doffs observance when the danger 's by. 
But I 'm a soldier, and unschooled i' the art 
Doth own the devil for its first professor ; 
I cannot promise where I do not purpose 
Performance honestly. I pray thee, leave me ; 
Thy presence here but mocks my sunken fortune, 
And wrongs thy better self. 

Lady C. Art thou prepared, then, 

To be the gaze of every paltry village, 
As thou art driven to thy slaughter-house ; 
Set up i' th' market-place, a flouting stock 
For rascal mobs to stale their vileness on ? 
Hast thou prepared thee for thy doom — a death 
Not such as soldiers smile to look upon 
I' th' honoured field, with glory's garnish on 't, 
But such as felons die — doled out to thee 
With such nice measuring, that every drop 
Of pain and shame shall give its flavour to thee. — 
Art thou prepared for this ? 

Wall. Lady, I am. 

With Heaven's good grace in aid. There have been those 
Who, rather than in one enforced phrase, 
Give breath to blasphemy, or duck the head. 
In sign of reverence, to a senseless thing 
Of stock or stone, did quafl" the molten metal, 
Enter the furnace fierce with tenfold fires, 
Face the starved lion in his den, — or give 
Their naked bodies to the shameful gibbet ! 

There have been such, — women among them too, 
Yea, tender virgins in the bud of life, 



108 WALLACE. 

Soft from the mother stalk ; and yet they shrunk not 
From fear of death, nor from the keener pang 
Of maiden shame ; and shall a man, a soldier, 
Where these have played the man, enact the woman ? 

Lady C. Am I so scorned then ? Look on me, proud man. 
Am I so hideous foul in flesh and form, 
So vile to sense, that thou dost count my love 
Worse than the worst of deaths ? 

Wall. No, lady, no ; 

Thy beauty well might tempt a nicer eye. 
And shake a firmer breast : 
But mine is lorded by one only passion. 
That will not brook a partner. I have vowed 
My hand, my heart, my life, to widowed Scotland, 
Her liegeman and her lover. And, bethink thee, 
How could I trumpet forth my country's wrongs, 
How could I rail against my country's robbers, 
How could I battle for my country's rights. 
Standing upon my holiness of cause, 
While I myself did wrong, did rob my neighbour 
Of his most holy and most hearted rights, 
A bawling patriot and a base adulterer ! 

Lady C, Farewell, proud fool, then — thou art frenetic — 
I leave thee to thy fate : nay, go to lend it 
Whate'er the working of a woman's brain, 
Sharpened by scorn, made furious by revenge, 
Can be the mother or the midwife to. 

[Exit^ locking the dungeon. 



WALLACE. 109 



APARTMENT IN THE CASTLE. 

(Enter Sm John Menteith,) 

Ment. Part of my recompence I have already 
Fast in my coffers : but the better part 
Is still expectancy. Ha ! here 's one item of 't, 
A bribe to bait the devil's hook withal, 
When he doth angle for a nicer prey ; 
A morsel might provoke the shrivelled anchorite 
To break his liesh-fast on a dish of sin ! — 
Comyn forestalled me once : but now I have 
Double amend in one — of him and her — 

(Enter Lady Comyn.) 
Aha ! fair lady, who 's the laugher now ? 
Have I miscarried? You have looked on him ; 
Have I not cooped the eagle in his cage. 
And marred his farther flight? Is 't not himself? 
I claim thy forfeit bond. 

Lady C. What forfeit claimest thou ? 

Ment, Lady, thy promised love. 

Lady C. My promised love ! 

Thou vile kidnapping caterer for the gallows ! 
Thou that didst sell the life's-blood of thy friend 
For a knave's hire — stealing upon his slumbers, 
As does the crawling thief that robs a hen-roost ! 
Thou claim a woman's love ! go claim thy pay. 
Thy hangman's pay — content thee therewithal, — 



110 WALLACE. 

But, from Joan de Valence, look for nought 

Save her abhorrence, and her loathing scorn. \_Exit. 

Ment. [solus.) Here is a cordial for a qualmy conscience ! 
A thank-speech from a setter on to sin ! 
St. Rule defend now this disease be catching, 
Or I shall prosper like Sir Puss i' the fable, 
Burnt his fool's paw, yet bagged him ne'er a chestnut. 
Nay, nay ; I have his bond ; I '11 to the south though. 
Lest this she-devil be beforehand with me. 
And rob me of the what I 've dearly worked for. [Exit. 



DUMFKIES CLOTSTEES OF THE GEEYFRIAES MONASTEEY, 

(Enter Comyn and Bruce.) 

Com. They wrong me vilely, and thou wrong'st me too, 
In giving ear-room for an instant to it. 
So foul a fiction. 

Br. I pray thee, not so loud. Our friends are near ; 
They must not know of this our cloudy gTeeting ; 
Let us within here. [Exeunt 



Scene changes to the interior of the church. 

{Re-enter Comyn and Bruce.) 

Com. I — I have secret dealing with King Edward ! 
What ! I betray our oath-fast covenant ! 



WALLACE. Ill 

Br. Ay : it is said so, Comyn : nay, that thou 
Didst send him even the authentic bond, 
With seal of arms we both did ratify — 

Com. Now, by St. Bryde ! this shall be answered for. 
Name me my foul defamer. 

Br. — And, moreover. 

That thou, on sundry grounds of policy. 
Didst motion Edward to my taking off, 
Pledging thyself, on the contracted day, 
To rid the king of Wallace and my brothers. 

Com. And hast thou faith for this? 

Br. — 'T is said, besides, 

That thou hast sent thy cousin. Sir James Comyn, 
To be thy doer, and thine hostager, 
1' the English court. 

Com. But, heaven and earth ! De Bruce, 

Dost thou believe all this ? 

Br. Nay, but De Comyn, didst thou do all this ? 

Com. Save Robert Bruce, no man durst ask that question. 
And brook one hour's lease o' the breath did utter it. 
But thou art privileged. Name me the villain 
Hath drugged thy fancy with this damned tale. 
That I may wash mine honour in his blood. 

Br. Dost thou deny it, then? 

Com. Do I deny it ? 

Dost thou, De Bruce, and darest thou believe it ? 

{Enter Sir James Lindsay, hastily.) 

Lind. My lords, I pray you pardon this intrusion : 
A messenger, and on the fume of haste. 
Would speak my Lord of Carrick instantly. 

Br. A moment's leave, my Lord of Badenach. 

[Exeunt Bruce and Lindsay. 



112 



WALLACE. 



Com. [solus.) By all the saints ! but thfe is passing strange, 
And most inopportune. So bravely planned too ! 
One little week had placed it past the marring. 
Should this be guess-work now ? No, no, it cannot be, 
For it doth hit each veriest circumstance 
Too nicely true for that. Who hath betrayed me ? 
There are but two are privy to my purpose, 
King Edward and my cousin bears that packet, 
And them self-interest seals sure to silence. 
But howsoe'er it be, for the either upshot 
I will fore-arm me ; to De Bruce out-face it. 
But place, meanwhile, mine uncle, with my followers, 
Within the call of need. [Exit. 



Scene changes to the cloisters of the same. 
{Enter Bruce and David Wylie.) 
Br. Oh ! 't is a tale of horror and of shame. 
That Scotland long shall weep in tears of blood for ! 
Alas ! for William Wallace ! Damned Menteith ! 
Thou worthy co-mate of the traitor Comyn. 
He 's in my power ; and thou dost bide thy turn. 
Go call me Lindsay and Kirkpatrick hither. 
Await me here without. Cheer thee, brave boy ; 
I loved him even as thou didst ; and the friend 
Thou 'st lost in Wallace, thou shalt find in Bruce. [Exeunt. 



Scene changes again to the interior of the church. 
(Comyn walking about. To him enters Bruce, agitated.) 
Com. My Lord of Annandale, that villanous tale — 



WALLACE. 113 

Br. Is true as thou art false. 

Com. As I am false ! ha ! 

Darest thou repeat that charge ? 

Br. I dare and do, 

Even to thy traitor's teeth. 
I do impeach thee here of perjury — 
Treachery to ine, and to thy country treason : 
I do accuse thee of my pm-posed murder ; 
I do attaint thee as a vile accomplice 
In that most damned deed of shame, the seizure 
Of William Wallace- 
Co??!. Ha! of William Wallace !— 
Is he then seized ? 

Br. Dost thou plead ignorance ? 

Com. I do, and honestly. If he be seized. 
By heaven and all it holds, I had no hand in 't. 

Br, Oh, ye were brother-anglers, and Menteith 
Has had the better luck, that 's all. 

Com. Menteith ! 

Br. Ay, and thy virtuous lady ! Paltering knave. 
Didst make a shuffle of thy soul-plight oath — 

Com. He lies that speaks me so. 

Br. Ha ! lie, doth he ? 

Then he who speaks thee so is John de Comyn ; 
'T is thou canst best describe him. Here 's his hand to it. 

[Showing the intercepted packet.) 

Com. That packet ! Ha ! what pilfering knave purloined, 
Or traitor rendered that ? 

Br. Thy worthy cousin : 

x\nd here 's the key [drawing his sword) unlocked the chest 
that held it. 

Com. What ! and my cousin, then, Sir James de Comyn — 

H 



114 WALLACE. 

Br. Is gone before, to herald thee to hell. 
He 's still thy messenger : prepare to follow him. 

Com. Wouldst thou do sacrilege ? This place is holy — 

Br. The fitter, therefore, for a holy deed. 
In such a place as this didst thou he -mock 
The ear of heaven with a two-faced oath. 
Call it not sacrilege ; it is a sacrifice ; 
And Heaven, and all good men, will count it so. 
Defend thee. 

(Bruce /a/Zs on Comyn, who exclaims) 

Com. Ho ! Sir Robert Comyn ! ho ! 

Br. This for my country ; this for William Wallace ; 
And this for Robert Bruce ! [Comyn /rt/Zs; ejcf^ Bruce. 



Scene changes to the cloisters. 

(Lindsay, Kirkpatrick, and David Wylte.) 

Lind. Here comes De Bruce ; but, heaven ! how pale he 
looks ; 
His sword a-bloody, and his look a- wild ! [Enter Bruce.) 

My lord, I pray thee, what hath happed ? 

Br. I charged 

The traitor with his crimes — rehearsed each circumstance — 
Produced my vouching — he did call me liar — 
And I — I doubt me, I have slain him, Lindsay. 

Kirlcp. Doubt'st thou. Sir King; I make it sicker then. 

\Exit. 
Lind. 'T is not a deed to be but halfly done. {Exit, 

(Re-enter Lindsay and Kirkpatrick.) 
Kirkp. The traitor, and his uncle, Robert Comyn, 
Have their quietus now ; but their clan 's up — 



WALLACE. 115 

There is no tarrying liere ; let us to horse ! 
Ho ! for Lochmaben Castle. 

Lind. Nay, Kirkpatrick, 

Rather for Scone, and to the crowning-stone. 
There must no dallying now ! — the sword is out : 
Scotland doth lack a king, and her liege lord 
Must buckle on his rights. 

Br. He must so, Lindsay, 

xind he will do it, be it life or death, 
A scaffold or a throne. To horse ! to horse, then ! 
We, first, must prove the mettle of their heels, 
And then their bearing in the noble field. 
FoUow me, faithful boy ; thy services 
Are in my heart's roll writ ; nor will they lack 
A king's remembering or remunerance. \J^xtunt. 



END OF ACT IV, 



116 



WALLACE. 



ACT y. 



LONDON THE PALACE. 

[Enter Lady Comyn.) 

Lady C. So ends my goodly plot, my lodging him 
'Stead o' the tower, in Fenchurch Street, and in 
The wardship of my creature, William Delect, 
Ev'n like the rest, miscarried ! Lectured too. 
Like some poor Magd'lene by a pulseless shaveling ! 

This monk in mail ! — pride-frosted fanatic ! 
I" ve been the foot-ball of his scorn too long. 
But now 

The blood of Valence is a-boil within me ! 
It drowns the fond, inflames the injured woman, 
And quenches every passion but revenge. 

But hush ! here comes mine uncle and the Queen. 

{Enter King Edward and Queen Margaret.) 

Ed. Fye, 't is the doting of some crazed monk. 
Makes divination of an ill digestion, 
And starts a prophet on his stomach's call — 
I will appeal me to my cousin here. 



1 

I 



WALLACE. 117 

Lady C What is the question, pray thee, good my Lord ? 

Ed. A foolish vision of a foolish monk, 
Touching this traitor Scot, hath scared the Queen 
From her sound wits : and she would scare me too 
From doing justice on this homicide. 
What dost thou think he merits ? 

Lady C. Death, my Lord, 

A traitor's death — death on the gallows-tree — 
With every circumstance can give 't addition. 

Quee7i. Fye, fye, Joan ! thou dost forget the woman. 

Ed. Nay, by my faith, she 's in the right on't, wife. 
But canst thou read me, cousin, by what spells 
This Norland Hercules doth turn the heads 
Of all our English women — thine excepted ? 
For ever since the day ye went from me 
To Wallace at St. Alban's, truce-begging. 
He 's witched the Queen, Were he at large, i' faith, 
I would be jealous of him. Tell me now, 
I warrant me he vowed himself her knight, 
And promised her, when he had slain old Longshanks, 
A bran-new husband o' the northern cut. 
And half his throne to sit on. 

Queen. Fye, my lord, 

This jesting suits not with the time or subject. 
Or with thy better self. A brave man's fate 
Is not fit jest for soldier or for king. 

Ed. How chanced, Joan, thou 'scapedst this epidemy ? 
I warrant me, thou 'st seen him oft in Scotland : 
He is a goodly man, ha ! is he not — 
To fill a woman's eye ? 

Lady C. He is, indeed, Sir. 

Ed. But thou art Scot-proof, English to the core. 



118 WALLACE. 

And hatest liim. I doubt not, even as I do — 
That 's as tlie devil. 

Lady C. Sir, I love my country. 

Queen. Fye, fye, my Lord, you do forget yourself — 
Her husband is a Scot. 

Ed. Now, by the Mass, 

He is so, wife : and I do hate them so, 
I had forgot me : but, mayhap, my cousin. 
Like other wives, doth love her husband's enemy. 

Queen. Who loves her husband's glory and good name 
Best loves her husband's self. Both are at stake now : 
And I am jealous for mine husband's honour. 

Ed. Nay, pray thee, wife, no more : 't is not a matter 
For lady counsel. Scotland again 's a- fire — 
One rebel has escaped : but. Heaven to thank, 
The greater 's in my power : he shall not 'scape. 
He owes me large amend — the past the future. 
Call for his death alike : by Heaven he dies ! 

[Exit Edwaed. 

Queen, Then, noble Wallace, Heaven have mercy on thee — 
Or rather, for thou need'st it more. Heaven pardon thee, 
My hasty, wilful, and hot-headed husband ! 

Lady C. What was this vision that the king did speak of? 

Queen. Oh, it doth make me sad. It is most strange — 
But come with me, and I will tell it thee. [Exeunt. 



WALLACE. 119 



AVESTMINSTEE HALL THE BENCH. 

(Edward m the centre — Sm Peter Mallory, Chief Justice, 
and the other Judges^ on either side of him, hut seated a little 
lower. At the bar, Wallace heavily ironed^ with a crown 
of laurel on his head. At his right hand, Sir John de 
Segraye, acting Grand Marshal of England ; on his left, 
Sir GrEOEFREY Hartlepool, i^ecor^Zer of London. Behind, 
Sheriff, G-uards, and a crowd of spectators^ 

Ed. Thou 'st heard this chronicle of crimes rehearsed, 
— And 't is a bloody and a damning one, — 
If thou hast aiight that may, in mitigance, 
Better thee, speak. 

Sir Peter Mallory. Answer, thou man of blood. 

Wallace. A man of blood, 

Sir Justice, I haYe been : for which may HeaYcn, 
Of its high grace, assoil me ! but the blood 
Is on my sword is blood of enemies — 
luYaders and usurjDers : — He who sent them 
To do the wrong should bide -the reckoning. 

Sir P. M. Art thou not all that, in this royal presence, 
I haYe appeached thee of ! 

Wall. What's that? 

Ed. A rebel— 

A traitor to thy king — an outlawed felon, 
Consort with thicYCS and caterans, do own 
No homestead but the forest, nor no calling 
To Hyc a-by but reif and robbery ? 



120 WALLACE. 

Hast tliou not burned our towns, pillaged our churclies, 
Harried our lands ? — for each, the least of which, 
The law doth judge thee dead ; and for them all. 
Doom thee a death cruel and infamous. 

Wall. Were law my judge, and its administers 
Men who would dare voice forth its oracle 
In uprightness and freedom, — 't were light task. 
My Lord of England, to redargue what. 
Wedding fair actions to ill-favoured names. 
Thou wouldst pervert to crimes. But where I stand, 
It boots me nothing to defend myself, 
Since trial follows doom. 

Ed. Barest thou gainsay 't ? — 

Art thou not all thou art attainted of, 
A rebel and a traitor to thy king ? 

Wall. And who is he. King Edward ? 

Ed. Even King Edward. 

Wall. I know no king of Scotland of that name. 

Ed. I am thy king, and Scotland's, traitor ! 

Wall. No.— 

To Scotland's fealty thou hast no claim 
Of birthright or election. Thou hast been 
Her umpire, her usurper, not her king ; 
Umpire from her, usurper from thyself; 
Never her rightful lord. A despot's laws 
Hallowed a robber's rights : And might hath been 
Of both alike the source and sanctifier. 

Sir P. M. Prisoner, in speaking thus, thou doom'st thy- 
self : 
By treasonous speech thou dost thy treasonous acts 
Avouch and aggravate. Bethink thee, pray, — 
What sayest thou to the rest ? 



WALLACE. 121 

Wall. Sir Justice, nothing, 

That may avail me here. That I have slain 
Full many a subject of the king of England 
It is well known : I do acknowledge it — 
Nor doth my conscience prick me thereupon : 
For I did slay but men, mine enemies ; 
The blood of heljoless age, of innocent youth, 
Of priest or woman, have I never shed. 
That I have spoiled your cities and your fields 
Is also true : 

But I have done it as your enemy. 
In open 'gainstanding of open war. 
On provocation and on precedent — 
And who is he arraigns me thereupon ? 

Sir P. M. I do, and on our sovereign lord's behalf, 
King Edward's. 

Wall. What ! for King Edward ! he, by stratagem, 
Did fall on Berwick town upon Grood Friday, 
And left no Scot alive in 't ; not the priest 
On knee before his altar, nor the mother 
In her mid thi'oes of birth, the bed-fast beldame. 
The shrieking virgin, or the laughing babe. 
Till all the mill-dams, then on ebb o' the tide, 
Almost a-dry, swelled by this murder- cloud, 
Did fill to overflow, — and not one drop 
Circled alive, of that but yesternight 
Did feed the pulse of thirty thousand Scots ! 

Or is 't that Edward, in the barns of Ayr, 
Did hold his bkick and bloody Parliament, 
Hanging, like hounds in couples on the baulks. 
Twelve score, the prime of Scotland's baronage, 
Trusted his faith, — unlibelled and unshriven ! 



122 WALLACE. 

Sir G. Hartlepool. (^giving Wallace a blow on the cheek) 
Thou foul-mouthed traitor ! darest thou thus insult, 
Even on the judgment-seat, thy king and doomsman ? 

Wall. My judge and doomsman, not my king, Sir Knight. 
Right well his tender mercies do I know : 
Nor am I unprepared. — 

That day I buckled on my sword for Scotland, 
I knew my venture, and I took it freely. 
Victor, I knew ten thousand lives I saved ; 
Vanquished, I lost mine own. I have been vanquished — 
Fairly or not, it boots not here to question — 
I 'm doomed to death, I who, for many a year. 
Looked when I woke to meet him ere I slept — 
He comes not unawares. 

Ed. My Lord Chief Justice, 

He owns his crimes, defends and glories in them. 
Pronounce his doom. 

Sir P. M. Prisoner, the heavy doom 

The law denounces on thy heavy crimes, 
Is this : that thou be drawn to th' Elms at Smithfield, 
And there, upon a gibbet, by the neck 
That thou be hanged for robbery and murder : — 
And, for thy treasons 'gainst our lord the king. 
Thy traitor's heart be plucked from forth thy breast, 
Ere thou be dead, and burnt before thy face : — 
That then thou be beheaded and dismembered, 
Thy quartered members at the king's disposal, 
To be set up, memorials of thy crime 
And of its punishment : — All this to fall thee, ■ 
What time his highness may determine of. 

(Wallace hoivs in silence.) 



WALLACE. 128 

[Enter ^ hastily^ the Earl oe Pembroke.) 

Ed. Ha ! cousin, welcome. Tliou art come in time 
To see tliis valiant, vaunting, would-be king, 
Crowned, as he prophesied, at Westminster. 
But there is matter in thy look : what news 
From Scotland? 

Pemb. So it please your highness, 

I would impart them to your private ear. 

Ed. Nay, out with them : let Wallace hear them : they "re 
The last, I gmess, that he will hear from Scotland. 

Pemb. I would yom- Grrace had otherwise determined ; 
But they are these in brief. The traitor Bruce, 
How 'scaped I know not, hath arrived in Scotland, 
And at Dumfries, in private conference 
At the high altar of the Minorites, 
Slaughtered my brother-in-law, Sir John de Comyn. 

Ed. What, Pembroke ! Comyn slaughtered by De Bruce ! 
And at the altar too ! — 

Pemb. Even so, my liege : — 

WTiich done, the murderer with his followers, 
Lindsay, Kirkpatrick, and his brother Edward, 
Fled towards Perth ; — where Fife, even to a man, 
Clydesdale and Annandale, Ayr and the Levenox, 
Do flock by daily thousands to his standard. 

Ed. Ha ! is there with him any Scot of note 
Save those you named ? 

Pemb. The outlawed Earl of Lennox, 

Sinclair the Bishop of Duukeld, young Douglas, 
Sir Simon Frazer and Sir Grilbert Hay, 
With many more. From Sark to John o' Groats, 



124 



WALLACE. 



Scotland is up ; the general rallying-cry, — 
Vengeance for Wallace — to the Southrons death! 

Ed. Ha ! 't is well thouglit of. These Scots rebels lack 
Some relic of the saint they worship by, 
To keep their courage hot : and they shall have it. 
Off with that traitor to the gallows, Segrave ! — 

Seg. What ! now, my liege ! — not now — 

Ed. This very instant. 

And ere the set of sun, see thou I have 
His traitor limbs well packed, to send to Scotland — 
They '11 lend some spirit to his brother rebels 
To shout their treason cry. Ha ! smilest thou, Scot ? 

Wall. noble Bruce, well hast thou kept thy tryste. 
Though fortune proved my let. Thou wilt achieve 
What Wallace leaves undone. The lot of Heaven 
Doth fall on thee, the younger and the worthier : 
And thou, or I misread thy noble nature, 
Wilt justify the call. Methinks from far, 
I catch the cloud-break of thy coming day. 
Bright for thyself, and for thy country, glorious, — 
And, in the blessed foreview, die content. 
Go on and prosper — win thine own, and wear it — 
Brook it long years in peace — be loved, be honom-ed — 
And from thy loins issue a stream of kings 
Knows no exhausting, that shall sceptre it 
Over this chosen land — in blood and brotherhood 
Then one sea-bordered isle — shall rear a race 
In mind and mould nerved by their bracing clime 
To be the type of manhood, and to shine 
The lights and living models of the world. 

Ed. What ! is the traitor turned a prophet too ? 



« 



WALLACE. 125 

Off with, the raving second-sighted madman ! 
Follow me, Pembroke. 

Wall. Ere I go, Sir King, 

One boon, the first and last that William Wallace 
E'er sued thee for : the office of a priest. 
And some brief moments for a shriving time. 

Ed. By Heaven, thou shalt have none — nor priest nor 
shrift, 
Nor shriving time. Off to the gallows with him ! 
And at his peril see no priest come near him. 

[A murmur arises among the crowd.) 
Ha ! who is he dares question or gainsay 
Our royal will ? What, Winchelsea, is 't thou ? 
Upon thy peril — 

Winchel. Be 't at my peril then. 

I must not pause, even at thy royal bidding. 

Ed. Art thou turned traitor, too, rebellious priest, — 
Dost thou not dread a king's displeasure ? 

Win. Yes : 

And therefore dread not thine, but second to 't. 
I have another King, another Master, 
Must first be served. 

Ed. Ha ! Segrave, seize on him — 

Off to the Tower with him. 

Win. Segrave, stand back — 

Should he — shouldst thou, but lay one finger on me, 
In bar o' the duty I am now upon. 
Thyself and kingdom from all mean of grace, 
From sin-absolving seal of sacrament. 
Even from that moment I do interdict ; 
And thee thyself declare an excommunicate, 
Cut off from holy church. 



126 WALLACE. 

Sir P. M. Nay, good my Lord, 

Give way in this. Refusal will but win him 
The popular heart : and my Lord Pembroke's news. 
And needs therefrom arising, do dissuade 
From strife with holy church. 

Peinb. My Lord Chief- Justice 

Doth counsel wisely : good my liege, consider on 't. 

Ed. Priest, to thy task then — but be brief in it, 
Or 't will be marred. Segrave, look thou to this. 

[Exeurd Edward, Pembroke, Mallort, ^r. 

(Procession moves forward. Wallace in conversation with 
WiNCHELSEA, hetwixt Segrave and Hartlepool, Sheriffs, 
Guards, Sfc.) 



THE PALACE. 

(Edward and Pembroke.) 

Ed. There be already in the northern parts 
Full thirty thousand men. Cliiford and Percy 
Will join thy march to-morrow with the lark, 
And I will after thee with such a force — 
But, in the devil's name, what hubbub 's this ? 

[Enter Queen, agitated.) 
What is the matter, wife ? hast seen a ghost ? 
Thou look'st as one that hath. 



WALLACE. 127 

Queen. My Lord, my Lord! 

The holy friar is dead. 

Ed. And if ten thousand friars be dead, I care not — 
What 's that to me ? 

Queen. Oh, it is much, my Lord! 

Would thou hadst listened to my earnest prayer ! 

Ed. And saved mine enemy to save thy friar. 

Queen. Nay, nay, to save thyself. His death doth prove 
That vision was prophetic. Part's fulfilled — 
I shudder at the rest. 

Pemh. What vision 's this 

That doth distui'b yom^ highness so ? 

Queen. Pembroke ! 

But 't is too late. The holy friar John, 
Warned in a vision, did foretell that he 
Should sicken at the very moment Wallace 
Received his doom : — and he did sicken suddenly. 
Even on the turn of noon : — and that, moreover, 
Their spirits should take flight at the same instant, 
And he but now is dead. 

Ed. Is it so marvellous 

That an old brain-sick, bed-rid visioner. 
Should guess so near his death's hour ? 

Queen. And, besides. 

It was revealed him that the one same instant. 
From th' penal place assoil'd, should see them both 
Mansioned in Paradise. 

Pemb. And was this aU, madam ? 

Queen. Alas ! it was not all. The vision bore, 
That from the moment Wallace had his doom. 
His doomsman ne'er should listen happy news 
Nor live one hour of peace -. that he should never 



128 WALLACE. 

Set foot on Scottish land, nor his posterity- 
Hold inch thereof : that he himself should die, 
Baffled and baulked even within sight of it. 

Pemb. But, madam, gave this friar no sign in token 
His vision was a true one, and not purely 
His fever's prophecy ? 

Queen. He gave this sign : 

That on the instant that his spirit parted, 
The Abbey bells, even by a long hour's space — 

[Enter Lady Comyn hurriedly.) 

Lady C. My Lord, my Lord ! 

Ed. What now, I pray thee, cousin ? 

Art thou mad too ? Is there another friar 
Turned prophet for the nonce ? 

Lady C. My Lord, my Lord, 

The inmates of the Abbey, all aghast, 
Have fled their monastery. Some half-hour gone, 
Grood Friar John did part ; and ever since, 
Unwrung by mortal hand, the Abbey bells 
Have tolled most mournful and unearthly music, 
Nor can they be a-stopped. The frighted citizens 
Do gather round in crowds, agape with terror, 
Looking for something strange. (Enter Officer.) 

Ed. More miracles ? 

Art thou, too, charged with marvels ? what 's thy news ? 

Off. Tidings, my liege, from Scotland, that Be Bruce 
Is crowned at Scone, and all beyond the Forth 
In arms for him. 

(^Enter another Officer.) 

Ed. Art thou from Scotland, too ? 

Out with thy secret, man ! 

Off. May 't please your highness, 



WALLACE. 129 

John de Bretagne, the captain of your host, 
Hath been defeated by the rebel Scots, 
And with most slaughterous loss. 

Ed. More news from hell ? 

WeU, sir? 

(3(i Officer.) 
Off. My Lord, in haste I come to give you notice, 

Berwick hath fallen — Dumfries and Stirling Castles 
Are in the rebels' hands — Dunbar 's besieged — 
Eoxburgh in jeopardy — Perth hath surrendered. 

Ed. Another post from purgatory, Clifford, 
With his black budget — 

[Enter Clifford.) 
What quaint masquer 's here, 
Thou play'st Sir Usher to ? 

Clif. A herald, charged 

To tender ransom for Sir William Wallace ; 
He craves immediate speech. 

Ed. Kansom for Wallace ! 

There 's one, and but one fee can ransom him, 
x\nd that is Bruce's head. 

[Enter Herald.) 
Well, sir, what says 
That rebel runaway ? Holds he not treason, 
Crime Ijlack enough, that he must double damn him 
With sacrilege and mm-der ? for his fellow, 
What doth the rebel offer us ? 

(G-RiMSBT, the Herald.) 
Grim. Three thousand pounds in gold — the town of Ber- 
wick, 
And Koxbm'gh Castle, to be thine for ever. 

Ed, He offers us our own ; he 's generous ! Well, sir, 

I 



130 WALLACE. 

An' if they be refused ? But here comes one, 

[Enter G-loster.) 
Or I misguess, will save me further breath, 
And give thee answer. Thou art from the Elms 
At Smithfield, Grioster, art thou not ? 

Glost. I am. 

Ed. Here 's one from Bruce tenders me tempting ransom 
For that Scots traitor. 

Glost. Wallace is beyond 

The reach of ransom or of wrong — he 's dead. 

Queen. Dead ! 

Lady C. Impossible ! what ! dead already ! 

'Twas but even now he did receive his sentence. 

Ed. Hear'st thou, Sir Herald, art thou answered now ? 

Grim. I am. A bloody and a damned answer ; 
With bloody reckoning shall 't be answered to. 

Ed. Kecount the manner of his death. Lord G-loster, 
And give this Scot assurance. But what ails thee — 
Thine eyes are red — hast thou been weeping, man ? — 
How did the traitor die ? 

Glost. My liege, his death, 

Even like his life, was noble. In my time, 
I 've stood the brunt of many a well-fought field, 
And seen the road to death take many paths, 
Painful to tread, and pitiful to look on, 
But never did this salty rheum bescald 
My soldier's eye before. 

Ed. Gloster, I read thee, 

Choose fitter phrase in speaking of a traitor. 
Thou talk'st as thou wert a fee'd rhetorist, 
Hired to stick flowers upon his monument. 
To the circumstances : Did he call in question 



WALLACE. 131 

The justice of his doom, and the brief space 
Did interval its executing ? 

Glost. Neither — 

In silent but not sullen majesty, 
He bore his torture's lingering ordeal, 
Which, while it forced the firmest on the shudder, 
Even in the looking on, wrung not from him 
One audible groan, as with his eye a-fixed 
Upon a psalter-book, his mother's gift, 
Which he had ever carried in his bosom, 
Even from his childhood, and the which a priest 
Held up before him, he did gaze thereon 
Till the glazed sense grew dark. And when at length 
The headsman, with his bloody fingers, tore 
From forth the mangled trunk his quivering heart, 
And flung it in the flames, that eagle eye. 
Which I so oft have seen i' the battle's front. 
Like heaven's own lightning flash, with one quick glance. 
Meek as a seraph's, he turned, smilingly. 
Heavenward, then closed, and with a sigh expired. 

(Queen /am^5.) 

Ed. Look to the Queen, there ! have her to her chamber. 

[She is home off.) 

Glost. And when the deathsman held his severed head 
Aloft, and cried — Behold a traitor^ s head! 
Long live King Edward ! — not a voice amen'd him ; 
But the dense multitude, dispartingly. 
Fled o' the instant : women did shriek and faint — 
Men sobbed — and as I hurried past, I saw 
My Lord of Canterbury on his knees, 
Weeping aloud. 

Lady C. Oh, thou hast murdered him. 



182 STALLAGE. 

Thou bloody Herod ! and Ms righteous blood, 

Exhaled to heaven, will rain down sorrows on thee. 

All good men's prayers be turned to curses on thee ! 

The friar's vision be fulfilled on thee ! 

Never good tidings glad thy savage ear ! 

Never thine age look on one hour of quiet ! 

Thy tyrant's couch be conscience-sprent with nettles ! 

Comfort be banished from thy dying bed ! 

And when thou diest — 

Peiiib. Fye, sister, art thou mad ? 

Lady C. Oh, would I were ! for then I should forget 
That I 'm his murderess too, — that I have mui'dered 
The noblest, bravest, best — the man I loved — 

Ed. Ha ! loved ! saidest thou ? 

Pemb. Nay, nay, she doth but rav( 

'T is but her fever speaks. 

Lady C. And thou, too, brother, 

Owest Heaven atonement for that damned deed : 
Thou hadst a hand in 't ; get thee back to Scotland, 
Thy reckoning waits thee there. And as for me — 

Ed. Oh ! I will look to thee, 
Thou blot on womanhood, whose base avouchment 
Proclaims thee traitress to thy husband's rights. 
As to thy country's ! Off to a dungeon with thee. 
Shame to thy royal blood ! 

Lady C. It is a tiger's. 

And I disown it. Off to a dungeon, say'st thou ? 
It is the home I choose, I seek, I speed to, 
A cloister's dungeon : where, with nightly tears 
And prayers, do tell each houi- that day is made of, 
I will, with shrift of ever-changing penance, 
Cleanse my brief thread of life. Ha ! thou here, too. 



WALLACE. 133 

The only devil of our knot was wanting, 

And he of all the blackest and most damned, 

Come to refresh the mem'ry of our guilt. 

Bloody Plantagenet ! here is thy hangman 

Come for his murder-fee. [^Exit Lady Comyn. 

(Filter Menteith.) 

Ed. What now, Menteith ? 

Ment. My liege, I bring thee heavy news from Scotland. 

Ed. Then keep them to thyself, sir. Am I cursed 
Never to hear but croakings ? am I damned, 
To be for ever stunned with Scotland ! Scotland ! 

Grim. Sir King, thou art. That name, thy conscience-knell, 
Shall still be pealed into thy startled ear, 
Till death doth seal it deaf. ]My mercy errand 
Thy murder-mockery of law and justice, 
Hath cruelly foreclosed. Hear now the after-say, 
From Scotland and her king. For this foid deed, 
I do denounce thee war, war and defiance. 
War to the dagger's hilt, — an unsheathed sword, 
Which this day's deed doth edge Heaven's minister 
And vowed executor, — and which shall never 
Visit its scabbard more, while thou dost live, 
Or one that calls thee master shall inherit 
Foot of that land owned Wallace for a son. 

[Exit Grimsby, 



THE END. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND, 



IN FIVE ACTS. 



MtumntiB "^nnonv^. 



MEN. 



James the First, Xing of Scotland. 

Walter Stewart, Earl of Athole, Uncle of the King. 

Robert Stewart, / ^^"^ Grandson, Chamherlain to 

i. the King. 

Sir Robert Gr^me, ( Brother to the deceased Karl of 

I otratherne. 

Earl of Angus, ) „ . , ,^ , , 

-in /^ y ocottish Nobles. 

Earl of Orkney, ) 

Sir William Crichton, Chancellor. 

Sir Andrew Gray, \ 

Sir Herbert Maxwell, ( Knights attending on the King. 

Sir David Dunbar, ......) 

Sir Walter Luvale, A Kniqht. 

Patrick Graeme, , Son of Sir Rohert Groeme. 

Sir John Hall, 

Thomas Hall, 

Thomas Chambers, ] Conspirators . 

Christopher Chambers, . ... 

Cahoun, 

Lords of Council— Estates of Parliament — 3I6b — Soldiers, &c. 



WOMEN. 

Joan of Somerset, Queen of Scotland. 

Catherine Douglas, ") 

Elizabeth Douglas, "^ Ladies attending on the Queen. 

MoRAG, A Highland Spaeioife. 



ACT I. 



^r,znz Jfirst. 

EDINBUEGH AN APARTMENT IN THE HOUSE OF THE EAEL 

OF MONTEITH. 

(Enter, in conversation, Sir Robert G-r^me and 
Patrick Graeme.) 

Grceme. Hotly I took my prisoning in Dunbar ; 
And when lie named Justiciar of kScotland, 
The place he knew Duke Murdac promised me, 
Sir Robert Lauder, of the Bass, profest 
Long time mine enemy — 

P. Grceme. From Sark to Sumboro', 

The land cried shame on him ! In all men's thoughts 
Thou wert designed the fittest and most capable 
For that high trust. 

Gr. 'T was but the weather-gaw 

Bodeth the weather-break. I had some favour — 
There 's mine ofi'ence — ^with his late noble kinsmen. 
The slaughtered house of Albany : and now 
I stand no longer in my nephew's shoes. 
Tutor to young Stratherne, the simple knight, 
Sir Robert Graeme, must fare as did his friends, 
Allan of Otterbm-ne, Sir Malcolm Fleming, 



138 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

The Bishop of Argyle, aud all on whom 
Shone the set sun of Albany. 

P. Gr. His uncle, 

Earl Walter, is thy friend, and Robert Stewart, 
The Earl's gay grandson. They are powerful, 
And favourites at Court. They had no hand 
In that so bloody act — so bloodily 
He 's visited upon the race of Albany — 
His brother, the young Duke of Rothsay's murder. 

Gt. Ay, they were sakeless there; for then they stood not 
Next in degree the throne. 

P. Gr. And now they do — 

Gr. They have for royalty as sharp a stomach 
As e'er Duke Robert had, of Albany. 

P. Gr. Is it suspected so ? 

Gr. I 'm sure of it, 

And glad to boot ; for until Walter Stewart 
Sits King of Scotland in James Stewart's saddle 
It will be Lentran for thyself and me. 
Athole is puzzling over ancient prophecies, 
As double and as mazed mysterious 
As ever Delphian or Druid spake. 
Which he unriddles to the tune that likes him ; 
And Robert Stewart would be Robert Bruce, 
A king, apeing his great progenitor. 
And doing Bannockburn in tournaments ! 
I feed their humom's both. 

P. Gr. But the first James 

Is firmly on his throne. The Commons love 
His genial nature fellows with their mirth. 
And makes their junketings and homely sports 
Matter his royal songs : nor less for that 



JAMES THE FIEST Or SCOTLAND. 139 

With the strong staff of law he doth maintain 

His humblest liegeman's rights against the proudest, 

Be he Sir Priest or Peer. Courtiers and ladies 

Love his gay wit, his amorous minstrelsies. 

Shows, and court pageants — soldiers his knightly courage ; 

And, in the matter of the Albanies, 

He hath so fenced him with the fellowship 

Of Scotland's mightiest, Athole, and Douglas, 

Angus, and Crawford, and Dunbar, and Orkney, 

The Hays, the Ogilvies, — his cause is theirs. 

His crime, his danger theirs. 'Twas their assize 

Adjudged Duke Murdac and his sons of treason. 

Gr. The scythe that sweeps the gowan on the green 
Slays not the gowan's roots. The roots of Albany 
Kun deep and far through Scotland's baronage ; 
They 're bleeding now beneath the mower's swathe, 
But they will blow anon. There 's not a house 
Of mark in Scotland weeps not kindred blood 
In that black tragedy. With wit to work it. 
Here 's mine will render gold. For the great lords. 
Their love is on the som\ The laws late passed, 
At the king's instance, by the Three Estates 
Nulling the jurisdiction they assumed 
Over their vassals' lives, and those prohibit 
Banging the land with swarms of followers 
In time of peace, o'ertax their means to keep. 
Have so embittered them — 

P. Gr. These acts methought 

Thyself had counselled them. 

Gr. The most inhibitive 

That touched the sorest on the quick I drew it ; — 
It sopped the Commons — ^writ me down a patriot — 



140 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 



Angered the Lords, and riped them for rebellion — 
x\nd here 's a godsend come as I had whistled for 't, 
This tax and tallage reird. 

P. Gr. The common sort 

Will stick by him — 

Gr. Will they ? Look from that window. 

P. Gr. St. Andrew ! what a crowd ! 

Gr. With holiday faces 

As they were boune for '■'•PebUs at the Play.^'' 
Do they not look so ? 

P. Gr. No ! By my troth they do not ! 

Neither like holiday nor holiness ; 
A more misruly, more misfavoured rabble 
Swarmed from the filth of the back wynds and closes 
I ne'er set eyes upon. There is a devil, 
A starved and scowling devil in their look ; 
They 're ripe for anything. 

Gr. So much the better ; 

They 're just the friends we need : Go mix with them ; 
They 're hieing hot-foot to the Parliament 
To beard their tax-masters. Thou 'rt new from France, — 
No man will know thee. Blow their humour bravely 
'G-ainst this new-fangled king is come from England, 
This feasting, fiddling, tax, and tallage king — 
Lauding perwhiles, and for parenthesis, 
Walter of Athole and Sir Robert Gramme, 
True Scots and patriots would as liefly look 
For down on hogs or knots in bulrushes 
As good in aught is kendled south the Border. 
Away, and show what word-wit thou hast learned 
From thy French schooling, by the proof of act ; 
For, punctual to his tryste, here comes Earl Walter, 



JAMES THE FIEST OF SCOTLAND. 141 

Feeding on freits and fortunes in the clouds, 

He dares but hint in circumloquitur. \_Exeunt. 



ANOTHER APARTMENT IN THE SAME, 

(Enter, in conversation, the Earl of Athole and 
Sir Robert Gr^me.) 

Grceme. Kings have long hands, my lord. 'Tis a strong 
measure 
This our liege lord requireth of his Parliament : — 
But then he knows we 've loyal consciences 
And melting bowels to a royal wooer ; — 
This castle-seizing, and this swapping earldoms 
Without the owner's leave ! Marr}^, his Grace 
Doth make a shrewd excamb — Buchan for March, 
Heather for corn, and tods and ptarmigans 
For beeves and fat kain hens ! But the Earl of March — 
I crave his pardon, the new Earl of Buchan — 
How doth it relish him ? 

Athole. Humph ! He must swallow it,, 

Digest it how he may — 

Gr. Now by St. Bathan ! 

Were I Dunbar, liever than yield me rood 
Of that brave heritage his fathers owned 
In the broad bounds of Merse, from Bass to Berwick, 
The rich green holms of Leader, Tweed, and Teviot, 
For the black moors of Buchan.- — 

Athole. Sooth, the Earl 



142 ■ JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Swears in his mood by every saint he wots of, 
Were he once more within his own good castle, 
He would defy both king and Parliament 
To fetch him out again ! They 'd find it game 
Like hopeless as my Lord of Salisbury did 
To oust his stout old grandame from her cover, 
Black Agnes of Dunbar, the Southron's sow, 
Made farrow suddenly, and shot her love-shafts 
Right to the English heart. 

Or. 'T is bravely spoken. 

So he will stand to it. How say our Lords ? 
Spy they not here a writing on the wall 
Prophetic to themselves ? 

Athole. They chafe at it. 

Gr. And for the cogent cause— the oft defection 
0' the House of March, whereto near neighbourhood 
Did much encourage, to the English side — 
How say. they to this reason for transporting them 
To north temptation, moating Forth and Tay 
Betwixt the devil and them ? 

Athole. They count it cloak 

Too scant to screen the shame of robbery. 

Gr. And these new-fangled acts against ih^ baronage - 
And this instalment of the royal ransom — 
How do they brook all this ? 

Athole. So much impatiently, 

They have appealed me earnestly, as next 
The throne in blood, to publicly protest 
This day against them all, as acts o'erpass 
The royal privilege, with word and weapon, 
Binding themselves to stand by me. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 143 

Gr. The which 

Thou 'It do, past doubt, my Lord. 

AtJioIe. I have declined it. 

Gr. Hast thou, my Lord ? 

Athole. My nephew's hot in blood — 

Gr. But with this warrandice — 

Athole. And then thou knowest 

The Earldom of Stratherne- — 

Gr. [aside.) — Ay, there he sopped thee. 

Athole. — That royal appanage, when it was found, 
Thy nephew, Malise Graeme could not retain it, 
As though descended from the royal stock, 
'T was by his mother's side — ( Walks to the window., looking 

out and listening.) 

Gr. {aside.) That stolen meat 

Hath glued thy glutton's lips. 

Athole. — To me he passed it. 

Gifting thy brother's son, for lieu thereof. 
The Earldom of Monteith. 

Gr. But mark, my Lord, 

'T is given thee but for life. No blood of thine 
Liherits after thee — it sinks, engulfed 
Into that bog is bottomless, the Crown.. 
And when thy nephew died, my Lord of Mar, 
His princely heritage was thine of right, 
He clutched it all himself. 

Athole. He did that foully. 

{Again walks to the window., looks out., and listens.) 
Gr. What spectacle, my Lord, invites thee so ? 

{Goes to the window.) 
A marvellous crowd ! Oh, 't is the blind old minstrel, 
Halbert of Haddington. He di-aweth audience. 



144 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Fuller and firmlier tethered by the ear 
Than e'er a preaching friar o' them all. 
Who texts his theme to-day ? 

Athole. Thomas of Erceldoune. 

Gr. Then 't is some sedging tale — Sir Tristram, may be- 

Athole. Nay, but his prophecies. Is it not strange, — 
Thou dost not think them sooth ? 

Gr. Of prophecies 

Time is assayer and interpreter, 
And with his sieve he sifts, unerringly. 
The false ones from the true. 

Athole. But Erceldoune 's — 

True Thomas is the name they 've purchased him, 
So perfectly he hit the happenings. 
The sudden death of our Third Alexander, 
Killed from his horse, at Kinghorn, he foretold it 
The day before it fell. 

Gr. Ay, at Dunbar, 

To th' Earl of March, the very hour o' the day, too. 
When that black tempest should blow over Scotland. 

Athole. And when the corpse of Wallace, counted dead. 
Was, by his English jailors, forth the window 
Flung on a dunghill, in the town of Ayr, 
Thence by his nurse, removed for stolen burial — 
The man was sent with tidings to the Faile, 
Where Thomas lodged — 

Gr. — He laughed his news to scorn, - 

Pledging his verity, his life thereto, 
That ere he died, was then accounted dead. 
Should thousands many die, on bloody field. 
That he should sweep the English forth the land 
And thrice for Scotland conquer peace in arms. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 145 

Athole. And so it all fell out. 

Gr. ToucMng thine ancestor — 

The Bruce was then a babe — ^he prophesied : 
" He rocks in cradle, there, shall wear a crown, 
A.nd have all Scotland in his royal leading." 

Athole. He did. 'T was strange. And there be things as 
strange 
Yet unaccomplished. Thou hast heard o' them — ? 

Gr. There 's one remembers me. — That a king's son. 
Of Bruce 's blood, and brother of a king, 
Whose son shall dy an hostage for a king, 
At his own dying shall have on a crown. 

Athole. Now, by St. Bede ! it is that proj^hecy 
The blind old man is rhyming through the streets. 

Gr. Indeed ! He 's bold : minstrels claim privilege. 
And blind old Halbert is a favourite. 
Yet there 's a prophecy, even he will not 
Venture repeating it. 

Athole. Of Erceldoune's ? 

Gr. That prophesies this very year of grace, 
Fixing 't by marks as clear definitive 
As it were written in the Almanack, 
There shall a king be done to dead in Scotland. 

Athole. Nay, by my faith, even that same prophecy. 
He did rehearse it too ! 

Gr. Should the king hear of it ? 

I Athole. He doth but laugh at them ; names them for 

mockery. 
Heraldic amphibologies, swearing he hath 
More faith in Tristram and his wondrous hounds, 
Hodain and Petticrewe, that Thomas sings of. 
Than all his pack of Pythian parables — 



146 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

The selcoutli sights lie saw in lift and lee, 
Lions and libbards, foumarts, mouldiewarps, — 
A dozen Daniels had not construed them. 

(G-RiEME shakes his head distrustingly .) 
Thou seem'st not of his mind — 

Gr. Be 't gift or guess, 

The Rhymer's prophecies have fallen so true, 
So without fail, that till this year be out — 

Athole. Then thou wilt fright me with that prophecy 
They have in Athole — 

Or, With what prophecy ? 

Athole. Touching our house. There 's not a dame in 
Athole 
But holds 't as Holy Writ — rhyming 't o' nights 
For music to her distaff. Some say Erceldoune 
Himself 'twas uttered it. 0' the wiser sort, 
I do remember in my boyhood's time, 
There were did mock at it ; but strange attesting 
It hath received since then. 

Gr. How says 't, my lord ? 

Athole. " In Athole's bounds betide man-child is born, 
Hath fingers six, and cow with triple horn, 
Last of his name and worst, let Athole's heir 
That child man grown avoid to counter where 
Two rivers join — for meet they at that ford, 
No Athole- Stewart shall be Athole's lord."* 



* As restricted to the Atliole-Stewarts, this prophecy was fulfilled. 
After the murder of James I., bis Queen married another James Stewart, 
a younger son of the Lord of Lome, and their eldest son was, l>y James 
II., created Earl of Athole. The large possessions, however, which had 
appertained to the title, were subdivided and much reduced. Portions of 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 147 

Gr. But this six-fingered brat, this three-horned heifer, 
Were never monstered of the same year's calving. 

Athole. Ay, and in Athole too — 

Gr. And do they live ? 

Athole. Chafed by their chanting that eternal rhyme, 
And crowds came wondering at the monster-beast, 
My gi'andson, Robert Stewart, in his heat. 
Slew 't as he came from hunting, with his spear. 

Gr. And the man-monster ? 

Athole. Would have slain him too — 

For he had crossed him oft ; once, in particular. 
Rescuing by main reprise a fair young wench. 
My grandson, in his boil of youthful blood, 
Maugre her leave would make his bed-fellow. 
We hunted him through Athole ; but he foiled us — 
And 't was reported he had passed the sea, 
To join the wars in France. 

Gr. Where questionless, 

To prove the prophecy but beldame's gospel, 
Belched by some jongler in his drunken dwalm. 
He perished in the ruin overswept, 
The remnant of that once so goodly band 
Followed the Douglas, and thy gallant nephew 
The Constable of France. 

Athole. Nay, 'tis reported me. 

Within this week he hath been seen in Athole. 

[Bell sounds in the distance.) 



them were conferred on those who had heen most active in the capture of 
Graeme and his fellow-conspirators, as on Duncanson (the progenitor of 
the Robertsons of Strowan) and others. " Atholiae comitatum habnit.'" 
says Major of the new Earl, " mutilatum tamen." 



148 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Gr. There sounds our summons to the Parliament, 
Of all our baronage is none will venture 
The task thou hast declined ? 

Athole. To publicly protest 

Against the royal acts ? Not one. 

Gr. Didst thou mistrust them — 

Would they not stand by thee ? 

Athole. They would, I doubt not. 

Gr. And were there one so bold to peril it, 
Would they uphold him, think'st thou ? 

Athole. To a man. 

They are so much mispleased, touching this matter, 
In heart so much at one, they do but lack 
A mouth and mover in 't. 

Gr. Then make we haste, 

I fain would speak them ere th' Estates are met. 

Athole (going to the window). 
Again that antient chime ! Is it not strange ! 
" Whose S071 shall die an hostage for a king, 
Himself at dying shall have on a crown!'' [Exeunt. 



%ztxit %\xx)i. 

A NARROW STREET NEAR THE PARLIAMENT HOUSE. 

{A great Mob gathered round Patrick Gr^me, who has been 
addressing them.) 

1 Mob. The king's own uncle and Sir Robert Graeme, 
So mighty in the law, our pleaders, saidst thou ? 
My certie ! it 's brave news. Since the black day 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 149 

When they took oflf the good Duke Murdac's head, 
I have not heard the like. 

But are they stanch ? 
Lovers of Scotland — traist friends to the people, 
As good Duke Murdac was ? 

P. Grceme. I 've heard them say 't, 

Were there familiars, liefer than sleep 
Under an English blanket, they would roll 
Their rachan round them on a drift of snow 
And make their bolster of a boulder stone ! 

They will not hunt with hound, nor hawk with falcon, 
So they be well avised concerning it, 
That it was whelped or fledged to south the Border. 

2 Moh. Nay, an' they hate our neighbours all so deadly, 
They 're Christian men, past doubt, and honest patriots. 

(Atiiole and Gr^me pass rapidly in the background on their 
way to the meeting of the Estates. 

P. Grceme. And, by St. Giles ! the very men we spake of, 
My Lord of Athole and Sir Robert Graeme — 
A cheer for them ! — (the mob huzza) — Now let us after them. 
To the Parliament ; and while they plead for us 
Against those traitor lords, would fleece poor Scotland 
To buy us back an Englishman for king. 
Raise we a shout shall make old Ai-thur's rock 
Dirl to the back-bone, and arede these lords. 
These tax and tallage lords, that we are legion. 
Come, follow me, my friends. 

[£"072^ Patrick GnmsiE, followed by Mob. 
Moray ., — The Spaewife of Lochaber, who has been in the 
crowd, remains looking after them. 
Ay, follow him, 



150 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Ye rowting raff of nowte and neer-do-weel&, 

And a black gate lie '11 lead you. Ho, young cock ! 

Thy roost right weel I ken it by thy crawing. 

Ay, and the auld cock learned thee that braw sang ! 

Bravely wots Morag what is in the wind, 

And she will watch and watch, and ward and warn 

The bonny king. Love-service for love-service ! [^Exit. 



THE HALL OF PAELIAMEI^T. 

[The Estates are met^ the King presiding. Sm Robert 
Gr^me is on his legs as if he had just done addressing ike i 
King. 

King. In name of the Estates of Parliament ! 

Gr. My Liege, I speak their mind. 

King. Is 't so, my Lords? {They bow assent.) 

Beshrew me, then, there 's none can charge your oracle 
That it doth Philippize. Hard things and harsh 
Sir Robert Grrasme hath spoke against your king, 
Baking my reign for text of obloquy 
Beside the present cause, which, as I understand it. 
Is not an inquest on my life and laws, 
But simply question touching an instalment 
Of certain monies to the King of England, 
Due for my maintenance — 

Gr. Thy restitution 

From forced captivity in breach of truce | 

And a false pirate's grip — robbing poor Scotland 
To gorge his coffers are too full already. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 151 

King. Say that the seizing Sinclair and myself 
At Flamborough, maugre our eight years' truce, 
By the Fourth Henry, was unkingly done, 
An act of piracy — I '11 not gainsay it. 
Cry shame thereon, and I will echo thee — 
Still must our debt be paid. The faith of Scotland 
Is pledged to it. For dowry of my Queen 
They have abated much — part is paid down, 
And for the residue there lie impledged 
Many our noblest youths and worthiest 
In the Sixth Henry's keep. My noble cousin, 
Lord Athole's heir, died in the Tower in London, 
Our hostage unredeemed. Must Crawford, too. 
Must Grordon, Oliphant, and Ogilvie, 
Thy nephew Malise, Ruthven, Lyon, Moubray, 
All in their English dungeon, rot unransomed. 
Have pawned their bodies for the faith of Scotland ? 

Gr. It needeth not — albeit our nation 's poor, 
And all unbroke to bear these heavy burdens ; — 
For in thy kinsmen's time, the Albanies, 
There was no tax imposed. For peer and people 
That was a blessed time ! The poor man then 
Looked on the increase of his flocks and fields 
As blessing, not as cui'se. His garners filled 
Untaxed, his cattle multiplied — 

King. And then 

Some Angus Murray, or some x\ngus Dufi", 
Macdonald, or Macarthur, or Macrore, 
Came with a tail of Redshanks from the hills 
And swept them hoof and horn ! And when the widow, 
The wretched widow they had robbed of aU, 
Sobbed out her curse on them, her naked feet 



152 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

They shod with iron, and with savage glee 

Bade post to court and tell her friend the Regent ! 

Right arm made right — ^law was hut privilege : — 
The poor man was a serf — his lord might hang him, 
For cause or none, over his castle's gate, 
As he might hang his hound ! To kirk and market 
A man went furnished as to battle-field, — 
And he who journeyed twenty mile from home 
Shrived ere he went, and made his testament ! 

I found it so, and booked my vow in heaven 
Though I should lead me a dog's life, or die 
A dog's death, mending it, this should not last — 
Never to slack me till, throughout broad Scotland, 
At mid-day or mid-night, the castle's key 
Should keep the castle, and the bush the cow ! 

Have I not kept mine oath ? Who sows the seed 
Now reaps the grain ; the herd is his who rears it ; 
Lording and loon hath but one law and knows it ; 
And thou may'st journey from the Brig of Berwick 
To Beauly's Firth with but thy staff to keep thee ! 
That untaxed time, that golden age of Albany, 
It was a blessed time — for thieves and robbers ! 
Better is 't not to gift the petty fee 
Upholds the law that doth uphold the whole ? 

Gr. Less bloody was the license of that time 
Than is the law profest its remedy. — 
Under the gentle rule of Albany, 
In twenty years, by heading or by hanging. 
Scarce were there fifty died. In two years' time 
This boasted law cut off a fifteen himdred — 

King. Robbers and thieves — would in two years have slain 
Their fifteen thousands — 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 153 

Gr. In this fifteen hundred, 

Perished Duke Murdac and the house of Albany, — 
The Earl of Lennox — ^were they thieves and robbers ? 
Was that their libel ? 

King. Ask these friends, are round thee — 

The Earls of Athole, Douglas, Angus, Orkney, 
The Lords of Lorn, Dalkeith, Montgomery, 
Sir Gilbert Hay the Constable of Scotland, 
Sir "Walter Ogilvie, and others there 
Who were their judges and their sentencers. 

Gr. The headsman's axe on Stirling's bloody knoll 
That lopped themselves, laid not their forests low, 
Their stately castles or their fruitful farms 
In the wide bounds of Fife, Menteith, and Lennox — 
These rich revenues once they answered all 
And left the lieges free. * 

King. They were the crown's, 

And to the crown are fallen by forfeiture — 
A king's necessities are much and many. 

Gr. If troops of English scullions be necessities, — 
If masquers, minstrels, quaint artificers, 
Quiristers, limners, be necessities. 
If columns charactered with rich devices 
In simiptuous palaces, — if orchards bowered 
With every plant of fragrance or of fruit, 
If trellised gardens, flowery terraces, 
If parks for pleasure — 

King. And they are necessities 

To soften a rude age. If the Fourth Henry 
Unkingly seized me and in breach of truce. 
Nobly he reared whom wi'ongly he detained, 
Schooling me duly in each gentle art 



15-4 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Might grace a knight, a monarch, or a man. 
And, so that Heaven do but accord me life, 
And treason leisure to achieve my hope, 
I will engraft upon our rougher rind 
The fair humanities he taught my youth. 

Gr. And fleece thy people and escheat thy nobles 
To fat a flock of foreign cormorants, 
Of cooks, and choristers, and ballad-makers. 
They 've swallowed Fife, Menteith, the Levenax, 
And Mar already. Ross and the West Isles 
Are in their glutton's gorge. My Lord of March 
Hath a rich earldom — hence 't is found the son 
Sinned in the sire, and he must render it ! 
Whose turn is next ? My Lord of x\thole there, 
My Lord of Douglas, they have brave domains, 
And so they must produce their chartulars : — 
And be their dot awanting or awry. 
They forfeit to the Crown — a muscle's quake 
Hath nulled their virtue and validity ! 
Scotland, that scorned to stoop a vassal neck 
To England's Edward with his hundred thousands, 
Will brook no English king upon her throne — 
Will brook no English minions in her court- — 
Will brook no English manners in her halls — 
Will brook no English tribute on her lands — 
All these thou hast imposed. 

Orkney to Angus [aside). Now brimstone broil him. 
We did not warrant that. 

Gr. Sir James of Scotland ! 

For that in breach thy bond and crowning oath, 
To " keep, defend, and govern ilk estate 
x\fter the law and customs of the realm. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. l55 

Nougtt there against to alter, eik, or minish, 
But with consent of the estates," — thou hast, 
Listening to foreign minions and miscounsel. 
Our wholesome, antient. home -born usages, 
For light imported fopperies annulled. 
And wasteful luxuries, for charge thereof 
G-rinding thy commons, forfeiting thy nobles-, 
And by the gibbet or the headsman's block, 
Ending on trumped and tyrannous pretext, 
The true-born line and issue of our kings — 

(Going up to the King and laying his hand on his shoulder) 
As a devourer of thy people's wealth. 
As a destroyer of thy people's rights, 
I do, in name of the Estates of Parliament, 
Arrest thee here to answer their arraign ! 

(Turning to the Lords of Parliament . 
Is it not so, my Lords, as I have said ? 

(All remain silent^ the greater number exchanging looks of 
astonishment and indignation.) 

King. (After regarding the Assembly for sometime steadily 
and with dignity) — 
Is 't so, indeed ? Hath he spoke warranted ? 
Vouch ye to this for likeness of your king ? 
If so, 't is bold ; if not, he hath done treason. 

Orkney. We gave no warrant to 't, nor weeting neither 
This his misloyal and mismannered speech. 

King. Hath he in presence none doth second him ? 

( They are silent.) 
I 'm glad there 's but a solitary traitor, 
And he not one is new or unsuspect ; 
It saves me spend of ire or argument 



156 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

A second would have chafed and troubled me. 

{To Sir Egbert Stewart, his Chamberlain) 
To-day, by promise to thy noble graiidsire, 
I boune me to the north for gallant sport, 
.To hunt the wild bull in the Athole woods ; 
Grood cousin, pray thee for thy prisoner. 
Look to this traitor ; lodge him in the Castle, 
In the sure keeping of Sir William Crichton ; 
And (rising) till we meet at Perth in Parliament, 
Adjourn we question of his punishment 
And of King Henry's claim. [Exit^ followed by Lords. 

Gr. So fares the fool 

Trusteth the windy warrant of a crowd ! 

(Aside, as Sir Robert Stewart advances with a guard to 

take him into custody?) 
Now Patrick with his piebalds to the rescue ! 
Or I Ve o'er shot my mark. 

[Exit guarded ; a tumult^ and loud shouting heard vjithout, 

clashing of arms, and cries of A Groeme ! a Grceme ! To 

the rescue ! Sfc. 



I 



THE PIER AT LEITH. 

(Enter the King, as in conversation with Sir Robert Stewart, 
and followed by Sir Andrew Gray and Sir David 
Dunbar. 

King. Fye, take 't not so to heart, my gentle cousin. 
Thou hast no blame in this. 

StewatH. That blow so stunned me. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 157 

My senses reeled and left me for what time 
Sufficed that rascal mob — 

King. Nay, with their numbers, 

And thy so slender guard — [looking out) — What hubbub 's 
here ? 

{Enter Sir Herbert Maxwell.) 
A second rising of the Cowgate, Maxwell ? 

Maxwell. 'T is but the poor old spaewife of Lochaber, 
Mad Morag, in her lunes, a mob of boys 
And idlers teazing her. 

King. See no one harms her, 

Nor mocks her in her mood, nor troubles her. 

[Exeunt Stewart and Maxwell. 
Sir Andrew Gray, what think'st thou of this sibyl ? 

Gray. Some count her mad, some a divineress — 
Some say she visions with the second sight, 
And some that stout potations put the spirit in her. 

King. But for thyself, which is the cause potential ? 

Gray. Any may serve, or all be confluent. 

King (musingly, and as if to himself). 
Her tale so true, and yet her cause of knowledge 
So wild, fantastical ! 

Gray. What speaks your Glrace of? 

Methought you laughed at both her trade and tribe, 
These fate-and-fortune -spellers in the clouds, 
Prophets in trance, and bedlams when they waken. 

King. And so I do ; and yet, last autumn 't was 
This woman made me quit the siege of Roxburgh, 
My gallant host disbanding suddenly. 
Some think ingloriously, when one short week 
Had made that strength mine own. Thou 'rt not o' them 
Have ruled that act caprice or cowardice. 



158 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Gray. For that I know it strangled in the nest 
A black conspiracy. But 't was the Queen, 
Methought, discovered it. 

King. This woman haunted her, 

Crossing her path, whene'er she went abroad, 
With riddling rhymes and quaint indicatives, 
'Tokened a danger and a deadly plot, 
And darkly its wherefrom. Sir Robert Lauder, 
At my wife's instance, searched the matter out, 
And found the beldame's visions verities. 
With haste the Queen rode to my camp at Marchmont : 
Another week and she had come too late. 

{A tumult without. Enter Morag struggling with Sir Robert 
Stewart, who is attemping to keep her hack.) 

Morag [to Sir Robert Stewart). 

Off ! off ! thou bloody whelp of bloody hound ! 

Thou made the keeper of the royal fold ! 

Wo to the shepherd sleeps when thou art watcher ! 

The wolf is on the wold. Who let him there ? 

Where 's the old fox ? Stole to the moor to meet 

The wolf and wolf's cub at the murder-cairn ! 
King (to Sir Robert Stewart). 

Nay, good, my cousin, let her have her way. 

Hinder her not. She 's earned her privilege. 
Morag {wildly., and as if to herself). 

In that year, when wine and ale. 
Frozen in their icy pail, 
By the piece are weighed in sale ; — 
In that year, when the Black Hour 
Falls on Scotland, tarn and tower. 
Shall be slain a king in bower ! 



I 

4 



A 



JAMES THE FIRST OP SCOTLAND. 159 

{Placing herself betwixt the King and the place of em- 
barkation) — 
Turn back, Sir King ! thou must not cross the sea : 
Turn back, Sir King ! thou art denied to pass. 

King. And who denieth me, good woman ? 

Morag. Houart. 

King. Houart ! — and who is Houart ? * 

Morag. He 's a king. 

King. There 's but one king in Scotland — that 's myself. 
This Houart must be a pretender-king — 
Some Donald Balloch come alive again. 

Morag (laying her hand on the King's shoulder'). 
Cross not the sea, James Stewart, King of Scotland — 
James Stewart, King of Scotland, I debar thee ! 

(The King, by his gestures^ showing some impatience^ she 
drops on her knee) 
Beseech thee do not pass — ^for an' thou do — 

King. What then ? — 

Morag. (Rising, and with solemnity') 

Back on the 'live thou never shalt return ! 

King. Nay, nay, good woman, I have crossed this ferry 
And back an hundred times but skaith, and shall, 
I nothing doubt me, with the help of Heaven, 
Do it as oft again. 

(Enter Walter Stratoun.) 



* To the historians who record this incident in the life of King James, 
the name Houart (or Houthart), given by the Highland prophetess to her 
familiar spirit, has proved a puzzle. But is it not just the Gaelic Thuirt, 
dixit (pronounced Houart), in other words, the voice, the most obvious 
form in which a supposed preternatural communion would be held, or 
preternatural communications received, by an insane visionary dwelling 
amid the solitudes of Lochaber ? 



160 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Stratoun. The Queen's embarked, 

And waits your Highness. 

Morag [earnestly). It was Houart sent me — 

Wilt thou not heark to Houart ? — 

King. Not now, Morag. 

My bark 's afloat, her shrouds are shaken free, 
The flood 's at full, the wind is blowing fair, 
And the Queen waits. 

Morag. {Sorrowfully., and as to herself.) 

If he do cross that ferry, 
Back on the 'live he never shall return. 

King. [Aside to Stewart and Gray.) 

It was this Houart, as she said, advised her 
Of that conspiracy. Pray ye, discover me. 
If he be made of other stufi" than moonshine. 
That we may deal with him. 

[Exeunt the King, with his attendants, except 
Stewart and G-ray. 

Stewart, (to Morag, who mutters something to herself, with- 
out seeming to regard him.) 
Where is King Houart ? 
Why comes he not himself ? Where bideth he ? 
His royal palace is a heather-bothy 
Shrouded in mist, and pestilent with reek 
Among the mountains of Lochaber — is 't not ? 

Thy devil would play dummy, witch ! would he ? 
Yonder 's, I trow, will loose his tongue — the jougs ! 
And eggs and urchins we shall find a plenty 
To pelt the Highland witch — where wons this Houart ? 

Morag. [Regarding him sternly.) 

Sir Robert Stewart "last and worst" — ay, worst — 
His sib and his familiar, fye ! — But he 



I 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 161 

Hatli liis weird too — for, " meet they at that ford, 
No Atliole Stewart shall be Athole's lord." 

Stewart, [Shaking her fiercely .) 

So thou hast learned that Rannoch rant too, hast thou, 
Thou curst coUoguer with the devil ? 

Gray. ^^J? 

His Grace enjoined us to deal gently with her. 
Wilt thou not tell me, my good Morag, now. 
Where Houart is ? I love King James's life, 
And fain would speech with him. Where 's Houart, pray 
thee? 

Morag. Seest yon black cloud is sailing to the North, 
For convoy to the king ? 

Gray. I see a cloud — 

Morag. Houart is riding on 't. Dost thou not see him ? 

Gray. I cannot swear I do ; but that may be 
My lack of clairvoyance. Is that his home ? 
Hath he no other dwelling-place ? 

Morag (wildly.) A thousand — 

Where burns run brattling through the smnmer shaws 
From linns and water-loups he sings to me : 
And the brave mountain-heads he loves them dearly, — 
It is the throne he sits on : the grey mist 
That is his bed of state ; from out its curtains, 
He says good-morrow to his fere, the sun. 
And holds blythe parle with me. And when, o' nights, 
I journey the black moor, he 11 bid the moon • 

Hang out her bonny bouet from the clouds. 
Or come himself whizz like a shooting star. 
And sit like Spunkie, swith on my left shoulder, 
To light me through the quags and weary mosses, 

L 



162 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Whispering brave things to me ! Sometimes he sends 
His kingly bidding by the lady owl, — 
And brawly can I read her bonny sang. 
And, when the clouds are skurrying through the sky, 
And strong winds warsling with the angry oaks, 
And drift leaves dancing through the tattered woods. 
That is our trysting-time. Then hand in hand, 
The lee-lang day, we thunder through the wood. 
And Houart shouts, and laughs, and talks with me. — 
'T is that hath made me wise ! This day he showed me 
The wolfs cub in that crowd was slavering them. 
Till they fell downright mad. The old wolf and the fox 
Slunk slyly from their den, and when they passed, 
1 spake to Houart, and he sent me, but — 

Flies will buzz, and finches sing. 
And leeches soak, and adders sting ; 
And so, 

In that year, when the Black Hour 
Falls on Scotland, tarn and tower. 
Shall be slain a king in bower ! 

(Rushes out in repeating these lines.) 
Stewart. What think'st thou of the king's wise woman 

now? — 
Gray. Humph, 'twere more tickle task to catch this 
Houart, 
Than Donald Balloch, in a Badenoch moss. 
Yet, there seems straggling through her ecstasy 
A ray of meaning, could mj^ duller sense 
But take it in. Be 't drink or divination, 
Or simple lunacy, I cannot tell ; 
I am Sir Andrew, not Sir (Edipus, 
AVhat says my king of Thebes ? 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 163 

Stewart. That she 's a cheat. 

Her lunes are mummery, her prophecies 
A juggler's oracles to frighten fools, 
And catch them in her net. Were I her deemster. 
The horse-pond or the jougs should be her guerdon : 
So, I '11 report the king. 

[^Exeunt. 



END OF ACT I, 



164 JAMES THE PIRST OF SCOTLAND. 



ACT 11. 



ATHOLE A NAEEOW PASS IN THE WOOD AT THE UPPER 

END OF KILLIECRANKIE. 

(Ejiterfrom opposite sides Sm Eobert Stewart and Walter 

LUVALE.) 

Stewart. Fellow, begone ! What dost thou skulking here ? 
Tarry but one day longer in these bounds, 
There 's not a jungle in the Athole woods. 
There 's not a tod's-hole, nor a wild-cat's den, 
From Birnam-braes to Rannoch thou dost hide in. 
Shall save thee from my search and from my sword. 

Luvale. I give thee back the fellow. For the rest 
Thou need'st no search for me. Thou hast thy sword, 
And here I stand before thee. Face to face, 
And foot to foot, the firm sward under us. 
And Heaven above us, for the on-looker, 
Robert of Athole, do thy worst ! 

Stewart. And tilt with thee ! — 

Thou misborn wretch, tilt with thy cope-fellows. 
My hinds or hounds ! thou art no mate for me. 

Luvale. A belted knight is tilt-fellow for king. 

Stewart A belted knight ! Who belted thee a knight ? 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 165 

Luvale. A brave man's arm, it boots not wliose nor where ; 
But meet we where we may, on good green- sward, 
In list or battle-field, thou meet'st thine equal — 
A spurred and belted knight. 

Stewart. A belted knight ! 

A belfry knight ! old Bishop Cardyne's knight — 
Some shaveling girded thee, for belt the cord 
A begging brother wore ! Begone, I say. 
For if to-morrow thou be found in Athole, 
By good St. Fillan and his holy well, 
To a wolf's death I '11 hunt thee with my hounds. 

[Exit Stewart. 

Luvale (solus). Was ever wretch so worried for his life, 
And for so simple cause ! that in her haste. 
Or in her freak, nature hath gifted me 
This finger all too much. Despite my pains 
To shun encounter with tliis frantic tyrant. 
Despite forbearance shown in other cause, 
So persecution proof from holy church 
Had won confessor's crown, if I do linger 
But one day longer here, I doubt this madman 
Will drive me in defence to mortal quarrel, 
And so force true his weird, turn freits to facts. 
And rants of beldames into prophecy. 

I 've saved the king ; high Heaven be praised for that ! 
Although I dared not tarry for his thanks ; 
My nurse is safe, and my fair foster-sister ; 
So now to drop an orphan's filial tear 
On my poor mother's grave and the good bishop's, 
Then Athole ! and my native land, farewell 
For ever, for the sunny fields of France, 
Where Charles and fortune woo and welcome me ! [Exit. 



166 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 



LOGIEEAIT, THE KING's CASTLE ON THE EIGHT BANK OF THE 

TUMMEL, NEAE ITS JUNCTION WITH THE TAY AN APAET- 

MENT IN THE EOYAL EESIDENCE. 

{Enter the Queen, attended hy Catherine Douglas, and 
followed hy Sir Herbert Maxwell.) 

Queen. Thank Heaven ! thank Heaven ! But hast thou 
told me all ? 
Hide nothing from me, good Sir Herbert ! pray thee ! 
Is he not hurt ? 

Max. I 've told your Highness true. — 

On my pledged honour as a Christian knight, 
The king 's not hurt, though his escape in sooth 
Showed like a miracle. But fearing rumour 
Should, with uncertain tale, alarm your Highness, 
He sped me on before. 

Queen. will he learn him never 

Wisdom, though peril preach ! Vainly I minded him 
How once before, in Castlecary woods 
His life was 'dangered by that horrid sport. 
Thank Heaven ! that savage breed is nigh extinct. 
Max. Ah, madam ! 't is a glorious sport albeit, 
And pastime for a king ! A nobler prize 
Ne'er started hunter from his forest lair ! 
had your Grace but seen that gallant brute 
Come thundering in his might ! white as the snow, — 



JAMES TUE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 167 

All but Lis liorns seem tipped with ebony, 
His muzzle, and his crisp and curled mane, 
Black as the raven's wing, — ^his brandished tail 
Streaming like knightly pennon in a charge ; 
His smoking nostrils as a furnace glowed ; — 
His eyes two founts of fire ! Forehead to earth. 
Trenching long furrows in the mountain's side. 
Headlong he dashed down hill ! horsemen and foot. 
Scattering to right and left ; the shower of lances 
Shaking like burdocks from his lusty flanks, — 
Tossing the mangled dogs howling to heaven ! — 

Queen. Where was the King ? 

Max. By evil chance, far down 

The narrow gullet of a forest lane 
That had no passage thorough, jagged and jammed 
With rocks on either side, when the fell beast. 
In full career rushed on him ! — to the earth 
Dashed his disbowelled steed — 

Queen. Forbear, forbear ! 

It makes my brain run round. 

Catherine Douglas. How was he saved, then ? 

Was it by mortal man ? 

Max. Madman or angel, 

I cannot tell me which. He came like lightning — 
Like lightning vanished. I' the self-same instant 
That savage brute impaled his Highness' steed. 
Sprang a young hunter from the rock above 
Sheer on the monster's back, and plunged his dagger 
Behind his ear so deftly and so deep. 
He dropped that moment on the ground stone-dead. 

C. D. the brave youth ! I love him from my heart. 

Queen. He was not slain, I hope ? 



168 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Max. Nor hurt, I think ; 

But sooth I scarce can tell, for though I stood 
"With my Lord Athole and Sir Robert Stewart, 
Not many paces from his Highness' side, 
So swift he came, so suddenly he went, 
I scarce, methinks, should know his face again. 

Queen. I hope he will be found. 

C. D. He shall be found. 

Although Kate Douglas should transform to Dian, 
A quivered huntress through the Athole woods. 
Or scale the stony crest of Beny\^racky, 
On search for him. And be there stuff in him, 
Whereout the King can manufacture knight — 

Max. What then? 

C. D. I do not know but I shall marry him. 

Max. So be Sir Robert Stewart grant his leave. 

C. D. With, or without thy leave or Robert Stewart's — 

Queen. Nay, nay, dear Catherine ! thou 'rt not wedded so, 
Hast yet no wifely fears. Where is the King ? 

Max. I left him on return. 

Queen. And who attends on him ? 

3Iax. Only Sir Andrew Gray. Your Grace doth know 
How, with a poet's and a painter's worship. 
He dearly loves to ramble, unattended, 
That glorious pass of craig and cataract 
And sylvan savagery. I 'm charged to meet him 
And be his boatman at the Tummel's ferry. 

Queen. do not tarry, good Sir Herbert ! There, 
So unattended in that perilous pass ! 
Foolhardy James, thou wilt provoke thy fate. 

Max. Nay, good your Highness, what hath he to fear 
In Killiecrankie woods ? 



JAMES THE PIRST OE SCOTLAND. 169 

Queen. Sir Robert Greeme, 

Dost thou not know that proud and desperate man 
Hath his allegiance formally disowned 
And writ defiance to the king ; and sworn 
Where'er he meets with him, armed or unarmed, 
Without defence of privilege, to slay him 
As he would slay a beast ? 

Max. He will not risk 

His outlaw's neck within the trap of Athole. 
He 's at the King's horn openly for treason, 
And there 's a tempting ransom on his head. 
Three thousand golden demies to the man 
Dead or alive shall bring him to the King. 

Queen. Oh, in that rank and ravelled wilderness 
A desperate man for months might bide his time, 
Then at the vantage spring upon his quarry. 
And laugh pursuit to scorn. Sir Herbert, pray thee. 
Make haste to join the King ! 

Max. Since your Grace wills it, 

Though full assured his safety needs it not. 

[Exeunt severally. 



170 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 



KILLIECEANKIE THE NORTH, OR LEFT BANK, OF THE GARRY, 

NEAR THE TIPPER EXTREMITY OF THE PASS A DEEP, 

SECLUDED, AND ROMANTIC DELL, AT THE BOTTOM OF THE 
GLEN, OVERHUNG AND CLOSED IN BY WOODED PRECIPICES. 

(Enter King James and Sir Andrew Gbay, the latter 
surveying the scene with admiration.) 

King (after regarding Gray's gestures of wonder and 
delight for some time in silence) — -- 
There is the temple drew my steps aside 
To play the pilgrim on our homeward way. 
Is 't not a shrine is worth the visiting ? 
'T is said we rhymsters ever pass the true 
In limning that we love, be our mood's idol 
Dead thing or live, a landscape or a woman ; 
And hence, I fear, thou wilt not recognise 
A spot hath often been described to thee. 

Gray. It bursts on me as a remembered thing 
I had seen shadowed in some glorious dream ! 
I ne'er have trode the Garry's glen before. 
And yet methinks there 's not a lichened ledge, 
^ Altar, or obelisk, or quaint baptistery. 
Or basin, rounded by the whirling wave. 
Singing and smoothing on through centuries ; — 
There 's not a precipice or splintered crag, 
Nor oozy grotto, nor that stunt old oak. 
All head and root, is clinging to the rock 
As though it fed on stone ; — nor that mad torrent 



JAMES THE FIRST OP SCOTLAND. 171 

That rusheth down, as shouting in its might, 
Nor that black eddie pool doth swallow it, 
But I could swear I 'd seen them all before. 

King. It is the dell I oft would tell thee of, 
Home-sick and sad, in Windsor's kingly keep. 
When, as we gazed upon the scene below — 
How proud ! how fair ! yet how unlike to this ! 
Contrast would shoot my fancy on the wing 
And waft thee with her to the Garry's glen ! 

Gray, It is the same ! I have it all by heart ; 
There 's not a tree but hangs a story by, 
Or cave but peers one from. That queer old oak 
I 've seen it oft five hundred miles away ! 
I '11 take mine oath to it, it is the same 
Did save Lord David Stewart's life. 

King. Methinks 

It hath not grown an inch these twenty years, 
Nor added wrinkle to its corded crust ! 
My cousin lost his footing near the top 
Of that bluff precipice, scrambling his way 
To a gled's eyrie, by some hazels grew, 
In the loose shingle of the rotten rock. 
And had been dashed a dead thing in that pool, 
Shot from so fearful height, had not that tree 
Midway the sheer descent entangled him ; — 
My brother Rothsay cheered him from his perch, 
To boldly leap into the linn below. 
Where he swam, ready to defend his drowning. 
He saved him ; but to die more lingering death. 
In London's tower, mine hostage unredeemed ! 
And thou, his rescuer, high-minded boy ! 
Thou, bold and beautiful ! whose fiery blood 



172 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Brooked not thy crafty, craven-hearted nncle 

Should wield the sceptre of thy royal father, — 

Poor Rothsay ! better had it been for thee 

That thou hadst made the Garry's linn thy grave, 

Than live to dree, in Falkland's damned den, 

That horrible ' death, while widowed poverty, 

By stealth her beggar's dole of barley-meal 

Dropped through the bars to thee ! and gentle womanhood. 

From her own bosom, scanting her little one, 

Through the scooped reed dispensed the balmy stream. 

To eik thy wretched life ! Oh, hadst thou lived 

Like him, thine age-fellow, England's fifth Harry, 

The follies of thy fiery spirit purged. 

Thou hadst to after times bequeathed a story 

Had riched the poet's and the patriot's telling. 

I have avenged thee, my poor murdered brother. 

And turned our father's curse to prophecy 

Upon thy murderers. Wo, the necessity 

Was laid on me thereto ! — Thy pardon, dray. 

This scene hath waked sad memories in me. 

We '11 talk of other things. Hast thou discovered 

Nought of that youth so bravely saved my life ? 

Strange he should shun the thanking of a king, 

For saving a king's life. 

Qray. . None seemed to know him. 

So swift he came, so suddenly departed. 
And yet methought — it might be fancy though — 
He and Sir Robert Stewart bandied looks 
Tokened a more of knowledge than of liking. 

King. Some lifter may be of the Athole beeves. 
Or intromitter with the Athole deer ; 
Would we could find him, though. What men are these ? 



I 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 173' 

Ha, Graeme ! — {drawing his sword) — the traitor Graeme ! 
stand on defence. 

{Enter, their swords drawn, Sir Robert Gr^me, Patrick 
Gr^me, and two armed followers^ 

Gr. Ay, Graeme, the traitor ! thy proclaimed traitor, 
Vi/'hose knightly scutcheon thou hast trampled on, 
Fouling the well-spring of his children's blood ! 
The outlaw Graeme, upon whose head thou 'st placed 
Thy mark and murder-price ! The wanderer Graeme, 
Whom thou hast robbed of house, home, heritage. 
Turning his wife with all her little ones 
To drift a barefoot beggar through the world ! 
The avenger Graeme — the son-in-law of Lennox, 
The brother-in-law of murdered Albany, 
With all his wrongs red in his memory. 
To whet his sword upon, hath come on thee. 
Thou tyrant without peer or parallel ! 

King. Truly a gallant enemy, and a generous. 
Brings four to foin with two ! 

Gr. Thou bloody tyrant ! 

We come not here to tilt in tournament, 
Or knight with knight to play at chivalry. 
I have disowned thee for my king — defied thee — 
And redd thee of my bloody sacrament. 
Attended, or alone, where'er I found thee, 
On flood or field, in forest or in fane, 
By onslaught or by ambushment, to slay thee 
As I would slay a wolf. So thou art slain, 
I reck not where or how ! And here I have thee 
Penned past escape. 

King. In God's name ! Gray, then. 



174 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

We 've fought worse odds ere now. Remember Dreux. 

Its blood-red rampart, and our doings there 

Won the fifth Harry's praise ! There is a rock, 

Set thou thy back to it, as I to this — 

My brother Rothsay played the hero here, 

His gallant ghost shall not look down on cowards ! 

[They engage ; Gtr^me and one of the followers falling on the 
King : Patrick Gr^me and the other on Gray. The 
King and Gray shout for war-cry, "Rothsay! Roth- 
say ! " their assailants, " Albany ! Albany ! ") 

[Enter hastily from the wood, his sword drawn, Walter 

LUVALE.) 

Luvale. A war-cry shouted, and the clash of arms ! 
Good Heaven ! the King. St. Andrew to the rescue ! 

{Places himself at the King's side, and kills the fellow who is 
attacking him, as Gray does the other. On olserving 
which, Sir Robert Gr^me and his Son make their 
escape into the wood.) 

Villains ! ye shall not 'scape. 

King (seizing his arm). Nay, I command thee. 

Pursuit were vain through Killiecrankie Woods, 

And perilous besides. Thou 'rt bleeding, Gray, 

I fear they hurt thee home. 

Gray. A scratch — no more. 

I pray your Highness have escaped as lightly. 

King. I am skin-whole. It had not long been so, though, 

But for our friend at need. The knaves were stout. 

And played their weapons well. Is it not strange. 

Twice on one day my life should have been rescued. 

As 't were by miracle ! 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 175 

Gray. By tlie same arm, too, 

Or I mistake me. 

King. Ha ! 

Gray. How livingly 

His countenance brings back that scene to me ! 
As with his knife unsheathed I saw him dart 
Like arrow down the rock, and heard the groan 
The monster heaved ; and the next moment spied him 
Upon his perch again ! wherefrom he gazed 
An anxious instant, as to make him sure 
Your Grace was safe, then, like a streak of mist 
Melts on a summer's morn, even in the looking at, 
Evanished from my sight ! 

King {cordially grasping Luvale's hand). Brave yout^! 
hast twice 
Been my good angel on this day — to find thee 
Is worth the risk we run. But why didst thou 
Not tarry to receive the thanks I owed thee ? 

Luvale. For that, my liege ! no thanks were due to me ; 
I did me nothing but with the like 'vantage 
Any leal subject in thy realm had done. 

King. But thou didst vanish as it were a deed 
It shamed thee to have done. Thou hadst no enemy 
Dangered thy stay ? 

Luvale. There's one doth make my tarrying 

In Athole perilous. 

King. And who is he ? 

Luvale. I pray thee, good my liege ! to pardon me. — 
My quarrels are not worth the ear of kings. 
By stealth I came to Athole, and by stealth 
I meant to pass away. Your Grace's leave 
That I may now depart. 



176 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

King. N^-Jj stay, I charge thee. 

Twice thou hast saved the King of Scotland's life ; — 
Lives there in Athole who shall dare to show, 
Or dare to say he is thine enemy ? 

[Luvale shakes his head distrustingly?) 
I know Earl Walter, my good uncle, is 
A jealous keeper of his forest deer. 
Some wandering buck, perchance, on Benygloe 
Thine arrow may have hit. 

Luvale. Never, my liege ; 

I ne'er have been a stealer of the deer. 

King. For youthful frolic thou hast joined a band 
Of gillie-glasses, from the Moray braes. 
To drive a spreath of heifers from Strathgarry. 

Luvale. The stouthrief robber, and the filching thief 
I hold at equal scorn. I ne'er, my liege, 
Have been a poacher or a cateran. 

King. Thou 'rt young and hot in blood ; how much thou 
art 
A master at thy weapon I have seen ; 
In sudden broil at fair or funeral, 
Or trysted meeting with a clan at feud, 
Thou 'st slain thy man, — ^his kin is rife in Athole, — 
Or thou hast heard that the First James of Scotland 's 
An austere king, a putter down and punisher 
Of these brave old time usages ; a tyrant 
Heads his own kindred, spares not high-born ladies, 
So they turn law-breakers, but sets perforce. 
Like thrifty dames to ply the spinning-wheel. 
For penance in Tantallon or Inchcolm, — 
Prisons proud lords, were island kings at home ; — 
Nails horses' shoes to heels of Highland loons ; — 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 177 

Hangs gentlemen of genealogy 

On gibbets by tlie score at Inverness, 

For lifting beeves, or harrying helpless widows, — 

And other things most horrible to hear ! 

Hadst thou arrived but a few minutes sooner. 

Thou 'dst heard his dittay and his deeds at large 

All duly catalogued and charactered 

By an authentic tongue. Thou think'st I am — 

Luvale. A just and noble prince, whom but such evil-doers 
None else have need to fear — wouldst curb by law, 
A lawless race hath had no curb but will, 
No bound to will but brute necessity ! 
From whom the humblest hath redress aggrieved, 
The highest judgment on convicted wrong ! 
Were Scotland's nobles but like Scotland's noblest. 
Then innocence might walk abroad unarmed, 
And Athole would be safe as Holyrood ! 
I 've done me nought needs make me fear the king. 

King. A flatterer, too ! i' faith thou 'rt courtier born, 
And must to court. Doth he not gloze already 
As he had run his court apprenticing ? 

Gray. But that he 's mixed some handful of the true 
Doth spoil its perfectness. 

King. Forbids thy mystery 

Disclosing of thy name ? 

Luvale. My liege, my name 

Is Walter Luvale. 

King. Luvale, — In this realm 

It is a rare but a right worthy one, — 
There have been brave men of thy name in Scotland : 
Witness James Luvale fought so gallantly. 
And fell at Harlaw with the Ogilvies, 

M 



178 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

And the cMef names of Angus, Mearns, and Mar, 
In that so bloody but so glorious fight 
Against the rebel Donald of the Isles — 
Art thou of kin to him ? 

Luvale. He was my father. 

King. Thou hadst a brave man to thy father then. 
Methought his race had perished with himself. 

Luvale. His lands were harried and his castle burnt 
By that fierce Highland host. My mother 'scaped, 
And with one sole attendant, by wild paths 
Crossing the "hills for refuge with her uncle, 
Old Robert Cardyne, Bishop of Dunkeld, 
In a lone hut amid the Athole mountains 
Was ta'en in labour suddenly. It chanced 
The shepherd's dame of that rude shieling nursed 
Her babe some three weeks old ; and while my mother 
Balanced for weary months 'twixt life and death, 
The kindly dame from her own bosom fed 
My new-born life. Under the bishop's roof 
Long two-and-twenty years we lived his guests, 
His cherished children rather, till, for cause 
It needs not tax the royal time with telling, 
Some three years gone I left my native land 
To seek my fortune in the wars of France, 
Wherein at Bauge, and at Yerneuil, 
So fatal to our Scottish chivalry. 
Mine uncle Thomas Luvale had achieved 
An honourable name. Sir Patrick Ogilvie, 
Was made Lord Constable of Scots in France 
After Lord Darnley's death, for some slight service 
Was pleased to knight me on the battle-field, 
And so o'erblazoned me to the French King, 
He 's named me captain in his Scottish Guards. 



JAMES THE riRST OF SCOTLAND. 179 

King. How art thou here, then ? 

Luvale. On brief leave obtained, 

Over my mother's grave and the good bishop's, 
To drop a pious tear, and place my nurse 
And foster-sister in some safe retreat, 
I sailed from France in that ill-fated ship, 
Was wrecked at Penmark on the Breton's coast. 
Carried my friend, the builder of my fortune, 
Sir Patrick Ogilvie. 

King. Alas, poor Ogilvie ! 

Scotland doth weep his loss, and Scotland's king. 
As of her bravest, wisest, worthiest. 

Luvale. My duty done, I 'm hasting my return. 
Lest it be over-due. 

King. The Queen must see thee, 

Else night nor day shall I have peace from her ; 
Nor will her missive to the Dauphiness 
Nor mine to Charles, and to my son-in-law, 
The Dauphin Lewis, mar their bearer's fortune, 

[Enter Sir Herbert Maxwell.) 
Maxwell, thou here ! This is not Tummel Ferry. 

Max. Fearing some danger did way-lay your Highness, 
The Queen commanded me. 

King. The Queen 's a witch, then : 

I '11 nail a horse-shoe to my chamber's door, 
And stick a sprig of rowan in my bonnet. 

Gray. Or, haply, her fast friend, the spaewife, taking 
Her daily precognition of the clouds, 
Has read our tussle there in hieroglyphics. 

King. Who was 't ordained all witches should be burned ? 
Was 't not old King Macbeth ? 

Gray. I think me not. 






180 JAMES THE rmsT or scotlaisd. 

But he it was did pass the law, ordains, 
"Fules, minstrels, bards, and sic like idle folks," 
Be forced to learn some honest craft to live by. 
Or yoked, like aivers, in the plough and harrows ! 

King. Ha ! ha ! It was. But thou and I, remember, 
Play we the bard, the minstrel, or the fool, — 
As sooth, our ingine somewhat tempts to do — 
Have the •' king's privileged Thou didst omit 
To cite that saving clause. I fear the Queen 's, though, 
But a green witch. She had not sent us Maxwell 
To th' rescue, else, so late. But here 's thy substitute 
Hath tumbled timely from the moon to us. — 
A brave one, too. Know him — Sir Walter Luvale. 
Now, homeward haste we, to relieve the Queen. 

[Exeunt. 



END OF ACT II. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 181 



ACT III. 



ATHOLE AN APARTMENT IN THE EARL's RESIDENCE. 

{Enter Athole, a scroll of parchment in his hand^ which he 
has heen reading^ 

Athole. Omens and oracles 

Crowd rife and ripe on us ! In divers places 
I' the three months' frost, curdled to compact ice, 
Their wine and ale were sold i' the solid piece ! 

In the mid month of June, at three o' the clock, 
All over Scotland fell so pitchy darkness 
By near an hour as 't were midnight at Yule ! 

Strange things to chronicle — and stranger still 
To chronicle foreseen ! — (rnusing) — When these things fall — 
How reads the prophecy? — " That year in Scotland 
There shall he slain a king.'' If they could prophesy * 
The signs so certainly, might they not also 
The thing's to follow them ? " When a king's son 
Of Bruce's blood, the brother of a king — " 
My brothers Albany, Stratherne, or Buchan, 
This much had fitted them. — But what comes after ? 
" Whose son shall dy an hostage for a king" — 



182 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

That fits but only me ; and lie it fits 

" Shall dying wear a crown." — That cruel deed, 

Young Rothsay's murder, for the house of Albany 

Did seem to clear the way. For doing it, 

The house of Albany o'ershadowed mine 

Hath perished, root and branch ! 

And now these prodigies, 
So strange adversatives to nature's rule, 
And yet so all foretold ; so timing, too. 
With Grrgeme's outlawry and sworn sacrament 
Of deadly reckoning with his sentencer, 
Outlawing his outlawer ! — 

Our title 's perfect, [unfolding the scroll.) 
GrrEeme shows it here in clear demonstrative 
Of logic and of law. Elizabeth Mm-e 
Was concubine, not queen. No mockery 
Of marriage forms following my mother's death, 
Could blanch of bastardy the brood begot 
Outside of wedlock's pale. — In hiding Graeme 
There is no treason done. I do but shield 
A life by gifted seers, in old-time oracles, 
Foretyped Heaven's instrument, the Crown of Scotland 
To rightly place on the true owner's head ! 
Graeme is our star of hope — our destiny 
Is webb'd with his. We stand or fall together. 

« [Exit. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 183 



THE SAME THE GLEN OF BE,UAE A WILD AND RETIRED SPOT 

NEAR grime's hiding-place. 

(Enter Sir Robert Stewart cmd Sir Robert GtR^me 
171 conversation.) 

GrcBine. It marvelled me that thou his chamberlain 
Tarriedst behind in Athole. But ha ! ha f 

Stewart. What moves thy merriment ? 

Gr. I was comparing 

My blasted fortunes with this lucky upstart's 
Thou hast been telling of — I, an earl's brother, 
An outlaw in the woods, have a brock's hole 
My bield and biding-place ; he, from his muck -hill, 
A butterfly at court ! — wishing I carried 
Finger or toe exceeds the complement 
Since hick doth lacquey superfluity ! 

Stewart. That misbegotten wretch ! where'er I turn, 
Like toad or adder on my path, I find him. 
Devils and oracles are leagued with him 
To cross me every way. He must be crushed — 
Till I have set my heel upon his head — 
While he has life there is no life for me. 

Gr. Not if ye meet at that forbidden ford 
As 't is most like ye shall. This Highland castle 
The king aflects it much. And well he may — 
It sitteth royally ; and near thereby 
Two rivers join, the Tummel and the Tay. 



184 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLANli. 

But I forget ; thou art an infidel, 
A mocker of that faith. 

Steiuart. Strange things have fallen 

To shake my scoffer's creed : that fearful mnd 
And that more fearful frost — the Black Hour next — 
That monster on four legs, and this on two ! 
All uncouth things, old crones and Lollard leeches 
Were burnt for heresy foreprophesied 
Long ere they fell to pass ! I do believe 
They have anointed him to weapon-proof; 
Griven robe or ring transports him at his pleasure ; 
Taught rhymes throw glamour o'er the sense of men. 
And drinks and philtres witch the love of women. 

Gr. Is he so much a. favourite at court ? 

Stewart. To be so checked and chidden and admonished 
Before the whole court too ! who am his cousin — 
In royal blood his equal. 

Gr. Say his better. 

He 's of th« bastard blood, thou 'rt of the true. 

Stewart. And for this monster-born, this eleemosynar. 
This foundling of the moors. 

Gr. Thou that wert held too 

So most his favourite, all did resort to thee. 
Had boon to beg or gi-ace to supplicate. 

Stewart. That star is set; and yet I thought he loved me. 

Gr. So did thy cousin Alexander Stewart, — 
So did Earl G-eorge of March ; yet o' the sudden, 
The one he slew, the other he hath beggared. 
The cat at romps will frolic with his prisoner. 
And pat the plaything he designs his dinner. 
The Queen, is she caught too ? 

Stewart. He is her chamberlain ! 



• JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 185 

Gr. 'T is prompt promotion ! 

Stewart. And when I alone 

Refused hail-fellow ! to this dunghill knight — 
For Patrick Ogilvie, he says, had knighted him 
Upon some foreign field — before them all 
He made him kneel, and begged my sword, and strake him. 
And bade him rise Sir Walter Luvale, knight, 
And each knight there salute him as a brother ! 

Gr. And did ye do 't? 

Stewart. Dunbar, and Gray, and Maxwell, 

Like true coui't-spaniels, licked his hands and fawned ; 
I on protest, as bidden by the king. 
Did lightly touch 't, as I would handle toad. 
And the cursed sword had dubbed him knight, that instant 
Shivered and flung away ! I 've craved me leave 
To tarry some time here, but never purpose 
Back to his court again. 

Gr. Nay? iia,y, thou must 

Back to the court, and soon. There 's bideth there 
A one that thou wouldst slay, and one that I — 
And both must die or neither. Nay, start not ; 
I say that both must die. If either live 
Thou art a man walks doomed. If Luvale lives 
Thou may'st forget that prophecy ; he will not. 
And hate will hasten weird. Or slay thou Luvale, 
The king slays thee : nay, if he lives thou diest, 
Be Luvale slain or no. That moment thou 
Brakest thy sword as desecrated thing. 
Thy death was written in his soul's dark chamber : — 
When did he pardon an offence like that ? 
Nay, hadst thou done it not, he stands in danger. 
Stands in his fence of fear. In the last Parliament 



186 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

He made us swear allegiance to Ms Queen. 

Men deemed it strange ; but tliere was purpose in 't, 

Ay, and deep policy. 

Stewart. He doats so on lier ; 

Was tliere au.glit else but that ? 

Gr. It was not tliat ; 

'T was pre -installing ber i' the regency ; 
For though he feigns to make his mirth thereat, 
The prophecy that weirds him dead this year, 
He inly doth believe, and trembles at it. 
He knows thy grandsire 's next his son by law, 
In blood before him ; that for hate men give him 
That nickname the old Irish gave their Brian, 
The Tax and Tallage King. He knows the nobles 
For choice would have thee king. In this new minion, 
And in this slight of purpose thrown on thee, 
Methinks I read the opening of his play, 
His tragedy of Albany, new cast 
For the descendants of Euphemia Eoss. 

Stewart. He 's not so jealous of our house, think'st thou ? 

Gr. My Lord of Athole would have had thee wed 
One of the princesses, thy royal cousins : 
Of kingly line, repute his favourite — 
Why said he nay to that ? 

Stewart. Nay, I must clear him 

In justice there. He knew my wishes in 't, 
And that I loved elsewhere. The black fiend flay him, 
He hath bewitched her too ! 

Gr. Fair Catherine Douglas? 

Stewart. It mads me more than all. The scornful minx ! 
And for this miscreate — this brownie's bastard — 
This monster bears the devil's own finger-mark ! 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 187 

But mine she shall be ! ay, tho' King and Queen, 
And monks and monsters, and the devil's dam. 
Armed with old prophecies. — There are in Athole 
Whate'er I dare devise, dare execute. 
Were it to sack St. Johnstoun, or to burn 
Old Abbot Oswald, and for funeral pile 
His friar's rookery. 

Gr. She shall be thine, 

And a king's couch to bed her beauty too. 
So thou art ruled by me. Persuade Earl Walter 
Arm me three hundred of his trustiest followers, — 
To steal a fair young maiden from the court, 
Your gillies will account as brave a pastime 
As lifting heifer from a lowland strath — 
And more they need not know. Post thou to court, 
And smooth thy brow, and play Sir Chamberlain 
As gay as thou wert wont. The thing 's decreed, 
And with the end so are the instruments ; — 
Thou shalt have thy revenge — I shall have mine.-rr- 
And for the lady, she may be thy Queen, 
Or concubine, as the Fourth Eobert wills it. 
I pray thee, move Earl Walter in this matter, 
And well bethink ye that it cost the Bruce 
A deadlier venture to achieve a crown, 
Whereto he could not plead so clear a title ! [Exeunt. 



188 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 



ANOTHER WILD SPOT IN THE SAME GLEN, CLOSE TO GR^Me's 
HIDING-PLACE, NEAR THE LOWER FALL OF THE BRUAR. 

{Enter Gr^me and Cahoun.) 

GrcEme. Ay, ay, I 'm sure o' them — I know my men ; 
I 've thrown my anchor in a place will catch. 
Old Athole 's half a fox, and half a fool ; 
I 've crammed the fox with law, the fool with prophecy ; 
He hath a double and a diligent stomach, 
It will digest them both. For Robert Stewart, 
He '11 back to court again. I have unhived 
A swarm of hissing hornets in his brain, 
Pride, envy, anger, vanity, and lust, 
In deadly buz ! and the queen-bee ambition. 
Will teach them where to fix their mortal stings. 
We '11 have revenge, Cahoun ! and with revenge. 
Honours in Lammas flood ! 

Cahoun. These red-shanks, think'st thou 

That we may trust to them ? 

Gr. What Athole bids them 

They '11 do, nor stand on why's, were it to burn 
The Blackfriar's monastery, and roast the monks. 
And sup the Abbot sodden into broo ! 
It needs not for the nonce, we strain obedience 
To this high-pressure -pro of. They '11 think 't is pastime, 
What in their mountain-creed is held no sin, 
And what indeed doth under-plot our play — 
Snatching a winsome damsel from the court 



JAMES THE FIRST OP SCOTLAND. 189 

For their young master to the braes of Fender 

To be his lady-love. Come to my den, 

1 11 give thee letters for the Halls, the Chambers, 

And others safely may be trusted to ; 

I 've planned it all, time, place, and circumstance. 

To the day, the hour, the minute, more imports 

Each actor knows his play with perfectness. \_Exeunt. 



^tznz Jfflttrt^. 



KILLIECRANKIE. 



{A high and rugged range of rocks betwixt the Tummel and Garry ^ 
commanding a vieiv of the pass in its whole length as well as 
of the open country in the surrounding district. On one of 
the boldest peaks, Morag discovered as if watching the motions 
of some one in the distance.) 

Morag, The henchman's up the hill to John o' Lude — 
Ho ! ho ! ho ! ho ! There 's one, two, three, 
Duncan of Faskil, Farquhar of Fonab, 
And now black John o' Lude. Ha, ha, old fox ! 
I rede, I rede, I rede. It 's not a bridal 
When ye 're the bidden guests : no, nor a tinchel 
To fank the silly deer ! The hoodie-crow, 
bravely kens she that. When ye 're at the busking, 
She 's at the singing ; caw ! caw ! caw ! she wots 
There 's flesh meat i' the wind. Heigho ! heigho ! 
But I 'm forfairn with walking. I '11 go sleep. 
Sleep, fye ! fye ! fye ! no sleep. The wolf wons yonder. 



190 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

And the wolf's cub. The old fox and his whelp, 

They 're trysted to his feast. There 's blood i' the banquet, 

And so I'll watch, watch, watch! Houart commanded me. 

And Houart is a spirit brave — 

I charge thee tell me where 
The wild wolf wons ? I' the Bruar's cave 

There is the wild wolf's lair. 

* * * * 

Three weary days o'er moss and moor, 

The hose but and the shoon — 
And when the day grew on the doure, 

Our bouet was the moon. 

He '11 not believe me. Yet thou camest from England 
Hot-foot enough. Sir King ! I warrant thee. 
To kill these Albanies when I sent for thee. 
They would not hang the hell-hounds, though I told them, 
But called me mad, and hoo'd their hounds at me ; 
And in their banquet hall I saw him sit 
And feast, and laugh, the merriest man was there. 
Who (shudderhig). — But poor Morag's dead ; when it was done 
Her body fell to pieces ! Houart tells me 
They cannot force the spirit nor defoul it. 
And so he lent me this brave body, skims 
Mountain and mere light as the falcon's feather, 
And laughs at frost and fire, spotless and white 
As the sky snow before it 's touched the earth. — 
My poor old mother, and my father ! hoo ! (Shuddering.) 

His hair was like the fine fine lint, 

Is dusted o'er with snow ; 
The oaken staff on which he bent. 

It grew in fair Glencoe ! 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND, 191 

" They 're wondrous old, and they 're a cold, 

That old man and his dame ! " 
And then they laughed, these revers bold, 

So merrily i' their game. 

They took them brand, and lowe ! lowe ! lowe ! 

The thatch it blazeth brave ! 
That old man and his dame, I trow, 

Their hearth- stone is their grave. 

And oh ! was 't not a sight of pride. 

These comely brothers three. 
With sword in hand stretched side by side. 

Stark on the bloody lea ! 

Their sisters twain, — 

{Covering her face with her hands.) 
My bonny, bonny sister ! 
Aye weeping, weeping, weeping ! Well for thee 
That thou canst weep ! the lady rowan tree 
Is growing on thy grave. I could not weep, 
So hied me to the king. He hanged them all ! 
And these proud Albanies too — ha ! ha ! ha ! 
But now they '11 kill him next — that sly old fox. 
The wild wolf and their cubs. So Houart tells me — 
For 

" In the year when the Black Hour 
Falls on Scotland, tarn and tower. 
Shall be slain a king in bower ! " 

He '11 not believe me though ; heigho ! heigho ! 
But what o' that ? love-service for love-service ! 
And so I '11 tell the Queen — {Looking out.) 

Another bidden ! 



192 JAMES THE FIRST OE SCOTLAND. 

Ho ! ho ! Sir Henchman ! thou dost shank it bravely ! 

No hill 's too stay, no linn too deep for thee ! 

But I will show thee I can run an errand 

As fast and far as thou — for Houart bade me 

To watch, watch, watch — and then, ha ! ha ! ha ! ha ! 

For bonny St. Johnstoun. it 's down by the Tay ! [Exit. 



END OF ACT III. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 193 



ACT ly. 



PERTH THE GARDENS OF THE BLACKFRIARS' MONASTERY 

SURROUNDED BY A LOW WALL, BETWIXT WHICH, AND THE 
OUTER (or city) WALL, THERE IS A MOAT. 

{Enter Catherine and Elizabeth Douglas, the latter with 
a bow and arrow in her hand, accompanied by Gray, 
Maxwell, and Luyale.) 

EUz. No doubt ye would — that is, ye 'd promise it — 
For so requires your courtier's catechism — 
Or shoot me midges, or ride after wild geese 
From John O'Grroats to Grreenland, if I bade ye ! 

But I 'm too learned i' the court Sanscrit, sirs ; 
Your Hellesponts, and Alps, and Apennines, 
And polar snows, and sands of Africa, 
I can translate them to the laic tongue. 

Gray. And how, fair Brahmin ! reads our Sanscrit, pray 
thee, 
Done to the vulgate and vernacular ? 

EUz. Ye '11 swim the Hellespont ; that is, so be 
No pond or ditch is near, is deep enough 
To float the fat Leander of the herd 



194 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Would seek his Hero on its farther side, 
To put your vaunting to tiie water-proof. 

Ye '11 scale me rock so perpendicular liigh . 
The wild cat shies it ; and the breeding eagle 
In doubt of the vertigo dares not build on 't, — 
That is, so ye be stationed on plain ground 
Whence may be spied no more precipitous steep 
Than wheezy abbot may ride up at speed, 
Maugre his asthma and his last night's supper. 

Ye '11 wade neck deep thro' pits of polar snow, 
But take good heed the safe bravado 's made 
When the crisp grass is frizzling in the dog-days ! 

And burning sands of Africa uncheered 
By freshet or green bush, unshod, unbonneted, 
Ye '11 course them bravely, as ye wipe your lips 
New steeped in mazer of cool Malvoisie ! 
But, as I know your court infirmity, 
I will not tax you to the scale of promise. 
But condescend to your weak faculty. 

{Advancing to the garden wall and shooting her arrow slant- 
ingly across to the other side.) 
There, fetch me that without the warder's leave. 
And claim the guerdon then. 

(GrRAY and Maxwell look at each other and burst int( 
laughter.) 

Gray. No make-believe, though : 

No formal mock court shadow of a kiss, 
But a substantial yeomanly transaction 
Authenticate by sound. 

Max. Whose clear report - 

Eliz. Shall set the echoes on Schiehallion longing, 
Be not the fault thine own, Sir Trumpeter. 



I 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 195 

Gray. A tempting bribe, Maxwell ! Wilt try for it ? 

yiax. (Looldng at the moat^ and shrugging his shoulders) — ■ 
Nay faith, 't was Luvale won tlie prize at leaping. 

Eliz. I bar bis trying tbo' ; ye Y\^ere tbe braggarts. 

Max. The moat — 

Eliz. Eye ! fye ! 'tis nothing but a ditch. 

Max. The ditch, then, is confounded broad. Its waters 
Not very deep, 't is true ; but then, their bed — 

Eliz. Is not a hard one. It will break no bones. 
'T is just the bed your sage Egyptian courtier, 
In old King Pharaoh's time, Sir Crocodile, 
For choice would sleep in and for luxury. 

Gray. A soft sweet hammock of succumbent mud. 
But say 't were possible to leap across, 
Must we so back again ? 

Eliz. That 's the condition — 

There is no bargain else. 

Gray. V faith, for me, then. 

Sir Cupid may go grope for his own arrow. 
To leap down might be tried — but to leap back 
Against this wall — I am no water-rat, 
I am for being buried on dry land, 
And liefer would have worms than eels to eat me. 
Sound sleep, Sir Crocodile ! and' pleasant dreams : 
Wear thy soft coverlid ungrudged for me ! 

(Luvale takes GtRAY and Maxwell aside., and whispers to 
them.) 

Max. Across the ditch ! 

Luvale. Even so. I witnessed it 

Not half-an-hour ago, as chance I sat 
In the close arbour there behind the juniper. 



196 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Gray. Who had the charge ? 

Luvale. Cahoun and Thomas Chambers. 

And when the fellows carried them had gone, 
They tried them on the ditch. They bridge it still. 

Gray. Planks laid across the ditch — 

What means it, know'st thou ? 

Tjuvale. I cannot tell. I guessed me some repairs 
On the moat's dyke against to-morrow's sports. 

Gray. Ho ! ho ! fair lady ! then, look to thy lips ! 
Don't tell it her. [Aloud) Ho ! Maxwell, for the arrow ! 
Now for eye-service ; for lip-service next. [Exeunt. 

Eliz. [calling after them.) When ye are chin-deep in that 
fat black gruel. 
And have a modicum of your mud-bath, 
Be sure you hollow lustily ! For when 
We hold you duly dubbed, we '11 fish with boat-hooks, 
And drag ye out, my gentle knights of Nile ! 
And now, my longing pair of cooing turtles. 
Have I not done that cleverly to serve you ? 

Luvale. To serve us ; how ? 

Eliz. Have I not purchased you. 

That ye 've been sighing for this livelong day — 
A cozy tete-d-tete ? There is no saying 
But I myself one day may need the like, 
And, therefore, have I done the good Samaritan. 
Now, Cupid, give you grace to say your say. 
Or sigh your sigh, or kiss your kiss at leisure — 
Don't garble them for haste. 'Twill be good hour 
Or ere mine arrow-hunters will disturb you. 

(Euns off') 

Cath. Stay, stay, Elizabeth ; dear cousin, pray thee — 
Was ever such a mad- cap ? 



(IS, 

I 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 197 

Luvale. Rather say, 

More sober wisdom, more considerate love, 
Mantled in mirth's undress — 
There was a purpose in her playfulness : 
Your cousin's jest but hit my thought in sadness. 
There 's something on thy mind. In this day's revels, 
That were of all the gayest and the merriest, 
I marked but two whose brow wore cloud on it — 
The good Queen and thyself. There is some mystery 
Is shared betwixt you both. If it be aught 
Threatens the King, her Highness, or thyself, 
I dare not boast, to prank my proffered service, 
A statesman's schooling or experience ; 
Nor may I vaunt me of my soldier's sword, 
'T is girt too new for that ; but if a heart 
Will cheerly spend the life that 's lodged in it. 
For each or all, make me confessor meet 
For so dear confidence, command and trust me. 

Cath. Luvale ! thou must to France. 

Luvale. To France ! 

Cath. Nor tarry 

For taking leave — the Queen will pardon it : 
Depart this very night. 

Luvale. Doth Catherine Douglas 

Wish my departure, then ? 

Cath. The Queen — 

Luvale. But thou- — 

But dost thou wish it too ? 

Cath. I have what cause 

To wish 't, the Queen has, and a cause besides, 
That she wots nothing of. 



198 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Liivale {walidng adoiit, agitated, and speaking to himself). 
They were the two 
Alone, resolved me to remain in Scotland, 
'Gainst weighty reasons said their nay to it — 
And now the life -shoots of the heart I 've struck 
Fondly and far into my native earth, 
They bid me rive them with a mortal wrench, 
And thrust in foreign mould ! (To Catherine Douglas) Sir 

Robert Stewart — 
Is he not cause of this ? 

Oath. He is. 

Luvale. I guessed so. 

To please thy lover thou — 

Cath. To please my lover ! 

Luvale. 'Tis known he loves thee. My Lord Athole's 
heir, — 
The cousin of the king — his favourite — 
Failing that child, his heir. — Beyond the sea 
He drove me once before, thro' Athole, hunting me 
As they would hunt a wolf. Methinks 't is hard 
To be thus bandied between France and Scotland, 
Because I hap to have for enemy 
One is too mighty to be checked by law. 
And too ungenerous to be swayed by honour ! 
But that thy lips, the lips of Catherine Douglas, 
Should be his messenger ! — 

Cath. Were Robert Stewart — 

What all the saints defend he e'er should be ! — 
Scotland's liege lord, and woo'd me for his queen, 
I would not answer him in otherwise 
Than I have done to-day. 

Luvale. To-day ! 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 199 

Cath. When I 

Refused to hear, his suit, was pressed more closely, 
More freely, and more insolently bold 
Than e'er he dared before, and angrily, 
Answered, I know not what, — his fury thundered 
Into a storm of bedlam blasphemies, 
Still makes my blood run cold ! Amid the hurricane 
Of frantic imprecations hurled at thee, 
'Spattered with names of scorn, and against them, 
The fated fools did foster thee, he dropped 
Mysterious hints of black and fearful import, 
Touching to-morrow, when the dainty mammet 
Scorned him to-day, would be right fain to supplicate 
To be the concubine of Robert Stewart.. — 
Luvale, thou must to France. 

Luvalc. As for myself, 

I stand his feud. But them did foster me, 
Said he, the fated fools — 

Cath. It was his phrase — 

Luvale. There may be danger there. The king 's too fear- 
less. 
His guards are billeted among the citizens 
Too sparsely for the call of sudden need. 
Who hath the watch to-night ? 

Cath. Hall and his brother. 

Luvale. I think they 're honest, yet I would Dunbar 
Had it, or I ; I '11 go walk round the walls. 
To see an' ail be sure, then speak Lord Angus, 
My Lord of Orkney, and the king's most friends. 
To pray his Grace — 

Cath. Hush! hush! they've found the arrow; 

I must begone. Thou wilt not then to France? 



200 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Luvale. No, not a foot ; not though Sir Charles of France 
Did bribe me with his staff of Constable. 
Thou 'st spoken that spell-fasts me here in Scotland, 
Fixed, as the strands that to her mountain's side 
Tether her native oak ; the king 's in danger, 
And Catherine Douglas loves not Kobert Stewart ! 

[Exeunt severally. 



THE SAME THE CITY WALLS NEAE THE PEINCIPAL GATE. 

{Enter ^ in conversation, Sir Walter Luvale and 
Sir John Hall.) 

Hall. Well, well, to humour thee ; and I will charge 
My brother, too, look warely to his watch. 
But, sooth, to-night, I meant to join your revels, 
And grudge me sorely to be baulked, and all 
For this new whimsy — for I guess it so — 
Of our good English Queen. She cannot see 
A knave on horseback sway his switch of hazel 
But she imagines it a brandished dagger ; 
Or spy a shaggy herdsman from his hill. 
Wrap in his rachan from the snell nor'-east, 
But she transforms him into Robert Grrgeme, 
Fumbling his dudgeon in his mantle's fold ; 
Nor hear a bagpipe at a rustic wedding, 
But straight she dreams of Highland hosts a-gathering, 
Rebels, and risings, and conspiracies, — 
And falls a swooning for her dear lord's life ! 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 201 

Luvale. "Was 't but her whimsy that conspiracy, 
Drew the king off so suddenly from Roxburgh ? 

Hall [starting^ and eyeing Luvale for a moment ivith a look 
of inquiry and suspicion, hut seemingly reassured). 
Some say it was, and some say it was not ; 
For me, I cannot tell. But for this night 
Thou mayest go soundly sleep, Sir Chamberlain, 
And vouch thy royal mistress. Sir John Hall 
Will answer freely with his neck, to-morrow. 
For every traitor, or one 's more a traitor 
Than is himself, shall enter Perth to-night. [Exit Luvale. 
Needless bravado if our plot miscarry. 
And safe if it succeeds ! 'T is well we're ready 
Ere the Queen's evil catch ! I pray. Sir Pointer, 
Thou snuff thy rounds out ere the gloamin 's done ; 
For an thou scent our wild red Athole deer, 
Are padding now upon the hoof from Methven, 
Sir William Crichton, and Sir Robert Lauder, 
And their fell hounds, the jailor and the hangman. 
Will have fresh venison, I trow, to-morrow ! [Exit. 



^ttxit Chtrh. 



MONASTERY. 



(Enter hastily Morag, covered with dust., and exhausted 
as after a long journey.) 

Morag. Heigho ! heigho ! but I 'm before ye yet ! 
Ay, loon by loon I counted them, three hundred ! 
Like cats i' the grey, creeping to Methven wood. 



•202 



JAMES TnE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 



By twos, and tens, and twenties ! 

To steal a bride ! fye, fye ! Black John o' Lude, 

And Farquhar Cam — busk ye such foresters, 

After such deer ! To bunt the girnel mouse. 

Hound ye the mountain wolf ! Bravely I wot 

The bride ye 're looking for. Your winsome marrow 

Hath hair upon her chin, and for a curch 

She wears a crown ! 

[LooMng up to the loinclouos of the apartments, which are 
hrilUardly lighted, and from which music is heard?) 

Torches and tapers ! piping and taboring, 
Harping and minstrelling, in dead men's chambers ! 

(Looking out.) 
Ho ! here 's a brother of their black covyne ; 
This night-hawk harbours in the royal dove-cot. 
Christopher Chambers ; ay, he served the Albanies 
That day they chased me from their castle-gate, 
And set their dogs at me, because I told them 
How he, that hell-hound i' their banquet-hall. 
Sat a chief guest, hoo ! hoo ! [shuddering.) Woe 's me ! woe "s 

me ! 
It 's a black day for thee. Sir James of Scotland, 
When Albany's doers keep thy castle's key ! 

{Enter ^ with the key of the Monastery gate _ in his hand, 
Christopher Chambers. He advances slowly^ ivith a sad 
and abstracted air, ivithout observing Morag, and pauses 
before entering^ 

C. Chambers. Hell hath me hand and foot ! Thrice T 
attempted it. 
To warn King James to-day. Some cm'sed chance 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 203 

Did ever thrust between to baffle me ! 
Stewart, Calioun, my brother, and the Halls, 
Dog him, like hunters closing round their cjuarry, 
Or keen-eyed eagles keep the stag in view, 
Limps to his brake to dy ! 

For long ten years 
Of his own chamber, fostered, friended, favoured, 
Yet sworn to take his life ! Some gracious angel 
Shield him this second time ! I, vowed his enemy. 
Am Tv^on his friend ; yea, from my heart's core love 
The brave, kind master I am leagued to murder ! 

(MoRAG, who has overheard him, sjDrings suddenly forward, 
and seizes his arm.) 

Morag. But thou 'It not do 't. Thou wilt not murder him. 

Chamb. (starting, and drawing his sword.) 
Ha ! eaves-droppers 1 pshaw, 't is some crazy wretch. 
She wots not what I mean. 

(Proceeds toivards the gate.) 

Morag. Thou 'It let me in — 

I am in haste to speak with him. 

Chaml). With whom ? 

Morag. James Stewart, King of Scotland. 

Chamb. What wouldst thou, 

I pray thee, with James Stewart, King of Scotland ? 

Morag. I have a message for his private hearing — 
There 's none may hinder me — 't were treason else — 
There 's life in it or death. 

Chamb. A likely messenger. 

To post on life and death ! I 'm of his chamber, 
Wilt thou not trust it me ? 

Morag. Thou 'rt not his cousin ? 



204 JAMES THE FIRST OP SCOTLAND. 

Chamb. I am his cousin's friend. 

Morag. Who was the king. 

The selcouth women stopped upon that moor, 
Near by the Moray's Firth ? 

Chamb. I think Macbeth. 

Morag. Who slew his king and cousin ? 

Chamb. Ay, what then ? 

Morag. There 's bloody work toward — 

Chamb. (aside.) There is indeed ; — 

But hast thou wot thereof? {Aloud) Robert of Athole 
Is cousin to our king. Thou wouldst not say — 

Morag. He came from England when I sent for him, 
And hanged the hell-hounds all ! Love-service for love-ser- 
vice ! 

Chamb. But who hath sent you with this message ? 

Morag. Houart. 

Chamb. Houart, I pray thee, who is he ? 

Morag. A king. 

Chamb. And of what kingdom ? 

Morag. Of the mere and mountain. 

Three days and nights in the brown moors he fed me 
But malt or meal ; made me a bed of heather ; 
And when I felt foot-sore upon my joui^ney, 
He sent me his brave chariot, yon grey cloud — 
Thou seest I am not tired ! 

Chamb. Alas ! poor wanderer, 

Thy looks belie thee, then. 

(Aside) She is but mad, — 
There was no meaning in her speech ; but still 
Her idle fancies seem to ever harp 
Some danger to the King. The Queen is timorous, — 
Might not this crazy wretch by indirection 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 205 

Be made mine instrument, and so inoculate 
The Queen with fears, that to forfend the false 
They might prevent the true ? 

[To Morag) Grood woman ! follow me. 

[Exeunt together into the Monastery. 



%tti\z i\auxi\. 



INTERIOR OF THE MONASTERY. 



{The royal apartmeyits. They are hrilliantly lighted and 
crowded with courtiers. At one table the Queen is play- 
ing chess until the Earl of Athole ; Lord Angus and 
Sir Robert Stewart lookiiig on. At another a party 
of courtiers engaged in the game of tables [or draughts). 
More in front the principal group is listening to a band 
of musicians^ who., in a recess of the apartment [concealed 
from view) play some pieces of ancient Scottish music. 
This group includes the King, the Earl of Orkney, Sir 
Andrew Gtray, Sir Herbert Maxwell, Sir Walter 
LuvALE, with Elizabeth and Catherine Douglas, 
When the music has ceased., Elizabeth Douglas goes 
into the recess in which the musicians are stationed., but 
returns immediately.) 

Eliz. They cannot play that air I liked so well, 
Your G-race invented last. But is it true 
You heard it in a dream ? Sleep hath, I know, 
Its proper organ ; 't is an instrument 
I 've heard full oft fair ladies practise on ; 



206 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLA^'D. 

But ne'er, I own, did relish much the music 
The minstrels drew from it ! But royal slumbers 
Are lulled, 't would seem, to sweeter symphonies ! 

King. Makers and minstrels plead the privilege 
Of dreaming in both kinds. 

Eliz. How in both kinds ? 

King. Awake and sleeping. But your lord of dreams, 
Whoe'er he be, hath no respect of persons : 
For sooth to say my last night's dreams were not 
Of sounds celestial, but infernal discords. 
Of hissing serpents, crawling and cursed things, 
Loathly and venomous ! That horrid dream, 
It makes me shudder still. 

Eliz. What dreamt your Highness ? 

King. Methought the reptile, an enormous serpent. 
Lashing ni}^ body in his clammy coils. 
Sprang headlong with me to his noisome den, 
Deep underneath the ground, a hideous hole. 
Dark, dank, and fetid with Tartarean smells. 
Vainly I struggled in his strangling clasp. 
His poisonous breath so palsied soul and sense, 
I could not cry for help. At length his neck 
Curving aloft in air, the monster snake 
With a shrill hiss darted his forky fang 
Full at my throat. I made a desperate bound, 
And waking found me on my chamber's floor 
In a cold dew, trembling from head to heel ! 

Max. Now, by St. Colm ! is it not passing strange ! 
I am not given to dreams. My whole life long 
I have not dreamt a score ; yet last night I 
Had a most frightful too. 

Eliz. Then out with it ! 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 207 

In dreams, as in discourse, I love tiie merry ; 
But here 's a listener, my gentle cousin, 
Affecteth the sublime, and most of all, 
When it doth kinder with the horrible, — 
Flies over steeples on a griffin's back. 
Parleys o' nights vfith caterwauling ghosts 
Under the gibbet tree ; with rapier's point 
Doth toothpick's office to the crocodile — 
Dream me a dream so charming horrible. 
And I will wager me thou didst — 

Max. Did what ? 

Eliz. Didst eat last night a most superfluous supper. 
And for confessor need'st the apothecary ! 

King. Is that tlie poetry of dreams ? Now, Maxwell, 
Thou 'st heard the cause, deliver the eff'ect. 

Max, \Yould my sage doctor of the cap and kirtle, 
Thou hadst my supper and my dream with it 
For sauce to aid digestion ! Thus it was then : 
Metliought we were again in Athole's forest 
Hunting the mountain bull. Our sport was brave, 
And we had slain, so seemed, a noble brute, 
After a gallant chase, when as we crowded 
Around the fallen beast, scanning with wonder 
His bulk, his brawn, his beauty, o' the sudden, 
He sprang bolt upright on his legs unhurt. 
And laughing loud, " Dost thou not know me, tyrant? 
I am Sir Robert Glragme ! " — 

Orh. [Grasping Maxwell's arm, and pointing to the table 
at which the Queen is playing.) 

Fye ! Art thou mad ? 
If thou must tell thy foolish dreams, speak lower. 

(Maxwell is silent.) 



208 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

King. And what ensued ? He smote me as sheer dead 
Upon the instant, as thy listener there. 
Sir, Walter Luvale, did his prototype, 
That day he saved my life. Was it not so ? 

Max, I think it was ; but sooth I scarce can tell, 
For with the fright I woke so suddenly — 

King. Even as thy cook composed thy last night's supper, 
So did thy fantasy thy last night's dream. 
He dressed thee a new mess — a heavy one, 
For so thy dream bewrays, of old materials 
Minced and mixed up, suet and spice — 

Eliz. What ! Maxwell, 

A haggis, as I live ! Didst sup on haggis ? 

King. So did thy fancy out of old events 
Compound the crude concoction of thy dream, 
Of a false history making, so at least 
Beldames will swear it thee, true prophecy. 

Luvale. Yet dreams, my liege, albeit not prophecies. 
Though but wild shuffles of our waking thoughts. 
And windy shadows of our waking acts. 
May warn at times of duty or of danger. 
If Maxwell's dream persuades your Highness more 
To guard your life against the traitor's dagger, 
What lacks him of a prophet's fame or fee 
A grateful nation shall o'erpay the patriot. 
Orkney. Luvale speaks true, my liege. 

King. Oh. j^e have heard 

The Rhymer's rede they troll about our streets, 
Betides this year a king is slain in Scotland. 

Luvale. Such prophecies do oft fulfil themselves — 
They light a purpose in a madman's brain ; — 
They lend a courage to a villain's arm, 



JAMES THE FIKST OF SCOTLAND. 209 

Till a blind guess doth quicken to a cause, 
And turns a random rede to history. 

King. Who in our last week's revels was "t we chose, 
And crowned for king of love ? 

Eliz. Sir Walter Luvale. 

King. Sir King of Love 1 then 'ware that prophecy. 
There are two kings in Scotland, thou and I, 
Look to thy life and warily, for wete thee 
I mean to do to mine — 

Luvale. Grant Heaven it be so : 

And to that end I pray for a beginning, 
They who are trusted with your Grace's safety 
Be lodged together within call of need, 
And not dispersed among the citizens. 

King. We '11 talk of that to-morrow. The meanwhile 
Here is a new romaunt is sent to me. 
Writ by Sir Hew of Eglinton, who sings 
As bravely as he fights. But we '11 disturb 
These gamesters else, — so pray ye come within 
And I will read it you — 

(A tumult is heard in the outer court, and loud voices as 
quarrelling.) 

But Stratoun, ho ! 

(Enter Stratoun.) 
What sudden hubbub 's here ? 

Stratoun. 'T is that wild woman 

Did stop your Highness on the pier at Leith. 
King. There 's none molesteth her ? 

Strat. I found her struggling 

With Thomas Chambers and Cahoun, demanding . . 
To see your Grace upon a thing of haste 
Had life or death in it. She would not tell it me. 





210 ' JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

King. Bid her disclose it to my cliamberiain. 

Strat. I named him too ; but then her fury foamed 
Into a storm of madness, and she showered on him 
Curses and evil names, and spake of things 
So black and damnable, it made my flesh 
Grue, and doth make it still, to think of them. 

King. Some crazy crotchet that infects her brain, — 
I '11 speak with her to-morrow — tell her so, 
And charge Cahoun and Chambers use her gently. 

[Exit Stratoun. 

(The King and those with him retire out of view., into the recess 
or side-room that had been occupied hy the musicians. 
Sir Robert Stewart, who has been anxiously listening 
to the conversation between the King and Stratoun, quits 
the a'partment hurriedly., as soon as the King and his 
party have disappeared.) 



front of the blackfeiaes' monasteey, as in scene third. 

{The gate of the outer court opens. Cahoun and Thomas 
Chambers ai'e forcing out Morag, who resists, although 
feebly, as one exhausted with fatigue. Stratoun follows 
them.) 

Strat. I pray thee now, he '11 speak with thee to-morrow : 

{Offering some silver.) 
Here 's will provide thee bit and bield till then. 

Morag. Away 1 it 's hush-money I it 's arles for treason ! 
There 's blood on it ; ye are his murderers. 



I 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 211 

Chamh. (shaking her roughly) — 
Thou foul-moutlied hag ! an' thou not hold thy peace 
We '11 tight thy thrapple with St. Johnstoun's tippet. 

Strat. Nay, use her gently, 't is the King's command. 

\_Exit Stratoun. 

Morag. To-morrow thou wilt speak with me, James Stewart. 
Where shalt thou be to-morrow — where shall Morag ? 

(Enter from the Monastery Sir Robert Stewart.) 

Stewart. Off with the devil's dam ! To the ditch with her, 
Fling her head foremost in to sink or swim, 
'T will show an' she be witch. 

Morag [after looking steadily for some time at Stewart. 
and as to herself) — 

The bride he beds with, 
I wot is growing in the Torwood yet, 
And he 's a gruesome carl will buckle them — 
But not a friar o' them, black or grey. 
Can tie a faster knot. 'T will be brave bridal. 
And thousands to look on. 

Stewart. Whose ban or bridal, 

Thou devil's druerie ! art muttering now ? 

Morag. There will be spurring ere the broose be won, 
And staucherin steeds ; and by they clear the ford — 

Stewart. What then ? 

Morag (pausing and looTcing expressively at Stewart) — 
No Athole- Stewart shall be Athole's lord. 

Stewart. Hell hag, thou ly'st! There shall be lords of 
Athole 
Of Stewart's name, and kings of Scotland too, 
When thou art carrion, meat for curs and crows. 



212 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Morag. The worst is last ! Ay, ay — Of Athole's blood 
No Stewart ever shall be Scotland's king. 

Stewart [lifting his sword to strike her) — 
Ha ! sing'st thou, hell-bird ? 

Cahoun. N^J? ^J Lord, beseech thee, 

The wretch is dying. Keep thy steel unbloodied — 
Remember that 's to do. 

Stewart. They 're breaking up — 

The lords will pass this way — this ominous magpie 
She will keep chattering still. Away with her, 
And fling her carcase in some ditch or dunghill. 
Where she may rave or rot. 
(Exeunt Cahoun and Chambers, /?)rcm^ Morag off the stage.) 

Now skaith for scorn 
Bonny Kate Douglas and my cousin king ! 
Call to the rescue an' it boots ye now 
Your Jack o' the moors, your many-fingered minion, 
Your knight o' the mushroom armed with oracles, 
And rhymes, and redes, and lying trumpery. 
I '11 meet him at that ford of Acheron, 
Where'er it be, and try conclusions there, 
Shall prove if Erceldoune or Robert Stewart 
Be soothest seer : For thus I prophesy. 
Despite the drivel of this dying witch. 
That Stewarts shall be lords of Athole still. 
And Athole's blood shall be the kings of Scotland. [Exit. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 213 



A NARROW STREET, OR WYND, TN THE NEIGHBOURHOOD OF 

THE MONASTERY MORAG IS DISCOVERED ON THE GROUND 

DYING. 

(Enter hastily from the farther end of the street^ as advancing 
tovjards the Monastery^ Sir Walter Luvale.) 

Luvale. The watch, deserted ! Neither to be found 
Hall nor his brother ! There is worse, I fear, 
Than mystery in 't. (Observing Morag.) 

Whom have we here ? a woman ! 
Some dying wretch. 

Moray (speaking to herself) — 

To -morrow, to-morrow ! 
That black and bloody morrow ! James of Scotland, 
Did I not redd thee an' thou crossed that ferry 
Back on the live thou never shouldst return ? 
But it 's true saying, weirded men are wilful ! 
Come late, come air, there 's no eschewing weird. 
It will repent ye, Sirs, I trow, to-morrow. 
Ye would not let me speak with him to-night. 

Luvale. It is the woman asked so earnestly 
To speak the King. Poor woman ! thou art ill, . 
Cheerly I '11 bear thee to — 

Morag. The King ! My blessing, 

The blessing of poor Morag be on thee 



214 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

For that kind word ! But oli, fast, fast, beseech thee — 
Faster than malkin ever fled from hound — 
Faster than ouzle ever fled from hawk — 
Or we shall be too late. For oh, I 'm weary, 
And dizzy, dizzy— and they 're yonder, yonder — 

Luvale. Who 's yonder ? 

Morag. Ptobert Graeme. 

Luvale. Nay, my good woman, 

Thy wits are wavering now — 

Morag. Wae's me ! wae's me ! 

I doubt they waver whiles, and gar me trow 
Things that be not. Yet loon by loon I counted them, 
Fast foot and heavy hand, a full three hundred 
From Athole's braes, crouching like wild-cats yonder 
For the dead .spring. 

Luvale. But where ? 

Morag. Among the bushes 

Ayont the garden's ditch. 

Luvale. They cannot pass : 

The moat is broad and deep. 

Morag. There 's planks on it — 

Luvale. Ha ! that is guessed like truth ! I marvelled me 
These planks were laid. Who comes ! AYhat, ho, Dunbar ! 

(Enter Sir David Dunbar.) 
I 'm glad thou 'rt come. I fear there 's treason doing. 

Dunbar. Upon King Houart's afiidavit, is 't not ? 
Vouched by his envoy, Lady Wisdom, there ? 
Thou know'st her man, dost not? 'T is poor mad Morag, 
The spaewife of Lochaber. 

Luvale. Wood or wise, 

She 's told me that so lends suspicion circumstance, . 
It makes the worst surmise the likeliest. 



JAMES THE FIEST OF SCOTLAND. 215 

There 's not a soldier upon watch to-night 
On all our city's round. 

Dimlar. Where's Sir John Hall? 

Luvale. I cannot find him, nor his brother neither — 
I doubt me Grr^me 's within the walls in hiding, 
And Hall conjunct with him. Come, rouse we haste 
The nearest citizens. Poor wretch ! (to Morag) I '11 send 
Anon shall care for thee. \Exeunt Luvale and Dunbar. 

Morag [sola). Love-service for love-service ! 

That 's Morag's wage. But oh ! I 'm weary, weary ! 
I wish I were on Inverlochy braes. 
In my own glen among the broom and brackens ; — 
The corrie's burn would croon me to my rest, 
And they would lay me down beside her, under 
That bonny rowan-tree ! And we would sleep 
Soundly, my sister ! soundly. I 'm right fain — 
It 's weary world when there is nought to do — 
And Morag would have nought to do to-morrow, 
But to the hills and weep ! {Listening anxiously.^ 

Hist ! hist ! not yet — 
It 's Morag must go first. 

[A light like the Maze, of torches flashes suddenly^ 6)5W6? Morag 
by a desperate effort starts upon her feet^ exclaiming^ — 

help ! help ! help ! 
Tli}^ weird is come on thee ; wake James of Scotland. 
villains ! villains ! 

[Attempts to run out., hut falls and expires, exclaiming) — 
Treason ! treason ! treason ! 



216 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 



THE EOYAL BED-CHAMBEK THE QUEEN WITH CATHEEINE 

AND ELIZABETH DOUGLAS STANDING BEFOKE THE FIEE- 

PLACE, AS LISTENING ANXIOUSLY. 

(Enter to them the King in his 7iight-gown and slippers.) 

King. Did ye too hear that noise ? I think my knaves 
Be in their cups, and fallen to fisticuffs— 

Cath. No, no ; to me it sounds the hurried tramp 
Of men have harness on. [A hlaze of light ^ Kind Heaven ! 
what 's that ? 
Queen. Oh ! 't is Sir Robert G-ra^me. 
King. I doubt this time 

Thou hast guessed true. He takes me unprepared — 

(Looking about for something to defend himself with ^) 
I 've not of steel might pare an apple's rind — 
Here 's for a time — [Attempts to fasten the chamber- door.) 

Grood heavens ! it will not turn. 
The lock is damaged. Ha ! the bolt removed — 
Then there is treason in 't ! 

(A loud shriek is now siiddenly heard from the farther extremity 
of the long corridor or passage, leading to the banqueting 
hall, and Stratoun retreating toiuards the King's cham- 
ber is heard calling Treason ! treason ! his voice becoming, 
by degrees, fainter and fainter, till at length it ceases 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 217 

altogether, and a sound is heard as of something falling 
heavily against the outside of the bed-chamber door , which 
the King still keeps shut. 

Queen. Oli ! heark, my Lord, 

'Tis Walter Stratoun's voice. 

King. My faithful page ! 

Oh ! had I but wherewith to 'venge thee on them, 
And sell my life, as should the King of Scotland ! 
But to be cooped and slaughtered in a shambles ! 

Cath. (placing her shoulder against the door, and pointing 
to the window) — 
There, there, my Lord ! We 're not the bird is wanted — 
And I have found a bolt will keep this staple. 

(Thrusting her arm into it by way of bar.) 
Eliz. What, Catherine, art thou mad ? 
Cath. It fits it, cousin — 

Gro thou and help the King. 

King (after attempting for some time, in vain, to loosen the 
stancheons from the window) — 

They 've newly batted them — 
There 's not a bar will yield. Ha ! (Looking at the floor.) 

underneath 
There is a vault. It has, I think, an opening 
Into the outer court. Had I but tool — 
And (Snatching the massive tongs from the fireplace.) 

— Here 's may serve a need. 

[With a desperate effort he succeeds in forcing a plank from 
the floor, making an aperture large enough to admit his 
person. The conspirators assail the door of the bed- 
chamher with violence?) 



218 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

Eliz. Haste, haste, my Lord ! 

(The King leaps down into the vault. The plank is replaced., 
and some rushes thrown over it hy Elizabeth Douglas. 
The conspirators now enter the apartment led hy Sir 
Robert Gtr^me, Catherine Douglas, with her arm 
broken, being dashed against the floor, on which she lies 
in a swoon. The Queen stands stuj)ified with terror in 
the middle of the apartment^ and Elizabeth Douglas 
places herself on the plank by which the King had made 
his escape. 

Gr. (on entering) — 
Albany! Albany ! now thou bloody tyrant ! 
Not here ! the bird is flown ! 

Chamb. do not fear it ; 

His cage is barred too well ; and there 's not cranny, 
Closet, or cupboard in this monkery 
Where cat might creep, or rat take sanctuary. 
But I do know them all. Here 's the brood-hen, 
I '11 first make sure of her. (Offering to kill the Queen.) 

P. Gr. [arresting his arm) — 

Shame on thee, Chambers ! 
A woman, fie ! 

Or. Mind not the wolf-dog's litter, 

First find the wolf himself. 

[Exeunt the conspirators. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 219 



A COERIDOR, THE BODY OF STRATOUN LYING NEAR THE 
ENTRANCE TO THE ROYAL BED-CHAMBER. 

[A noise is heard as of pei^sons rummaging the chambers in all 
directions in search of the King. After some time the voice 
0/ Thomas Chambers is heard behind the scenes as from the 
royal bed-chamber^ exclaiming^ — 

Chamb. Ho, Sirs ! What ho ! the bonny bride is found 
That we have come and carolled for all night ; — 
There, Sir John Hall ! Look down ! Now, by my faith, 
Thou 'st leaped it bravely ! and thy brother too, — 
Ye '11 have the handsel hug ! 

(Violent struggling heard in the vault.) 
The fell fiend worry him ! 
He hath them down ! 1' faith, Sir Robert Graeme, 
Thou 'rt come in time — T think he 's strangling them. 



THE ROYAL CHAMBER, AS IN SCENE SEVENTH. 

(The plank has been removed, and Chambers, Cahoun, and other 
conspirators are seen surrounding the aperture, holding torches 
so as to throw their light into the vault. Violent struggling 
heard below). 

Gr. (in the vault) — ■ 
Confessor, did'st thou say ? Thou shalt have none 



220 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

But this good sword. And mercy ! begg'st thou mercy ? 
Like mercy have thou as thou shewedst on them, — 
On Lennox, Albany, and Robert Grrseme. 

{Stabs the King repeatedly, then comes hastily forward to the 

mouth of the vault.) 
Fie ! help me out this hole ; it stifles me. 
Hall ! sheathe thy knife. I cannot finish it — 
This is mere butchery. 

Cahoun. But thou must finish it. 

T. Chamb. It must be done. 

Gr. Must — fellows ! must — 

Come, then, and do 't yourselves. 

Cahoun. Till it be done 

Ye come not up alive. We 're all dead men, 
An' he be not. 

T. Chamb. Ye pledged your knightly oath 
To my Lord Athole and Sir Bobert Stewart. 

(Noise as of a struggle in the vault ^ followed by a deep groan, 
and the sound as of a body falling?) 
Gr. Well, well, that darg is done. Put up thy dagger. 
And now, ye ravening and remorseless dogs, 
Have ye had blood enough ? Help out this shambles ! 

{The murderers are assisted out of the vault. They are be- 
smeared with blood] and all, especially the ^t^o Halls, 
bear the marks of a desperate struggle. Loud shouts are 
now heard from without, and enter hurriedly Patrick 
Gr^me.) 
P. Gr. Away, away ! the citizens are roused, 

And arming hastily, come swarming on. 

With Luvale and Dunbar. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND.- 221 

Sir J. Hall. Dunbar and Luvale ! 

Then, by my faith, no May-game will it prove. 
These are no swaggerers from their night's carouse. 
To ringlead a street-brawl. Where is Earl Walter, 
And Robert Stewart ? 

P. Gr. At their horses' speed, 

Oif to the North. 

Sir J. Hall. Then to the North let us off after them. 
While ports are free and darkness has our secret — 
Else will they smoke us here like bees in byke, 
Or knock o' th' pate like bullocks in our pound. 
How says Sir Robert Grraeme ? 

(To Gr^me, who stands abstractedly/ gazing down into the 
vault. ^ 

But ha ! what ails thee ? 
In tantrum or in trance ? What lookest thou on ? 
See'st thou a vision there ? 

Gr. (as speaking to himself.) Since Robert Bruce 
We 've not had such a king. Hadst thou but harness on, 
All three we had not done 't. 

Sir J. Hall. What, then ? Because 

The man was stout, must these same three who slew him, 
By thrice three hundred tarry to be butchered ? 
Our backers both have fled. 

Gr. Our backers baeked us 

But with a huxter's heart. Their bauble's down — 
Let them do play for 't an' they like, say I, 
And all the saints to speed ! But fight or flee, 
Sit they on dais, or swing they from a tether, 
Recketh not Robert Graeme. The game he played for 
Is past the spoiling. He hath slain the slayer — 



'222 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 

To deadly reckoning lie lias brought his debtor — 
He has revenge, and he is satisfied. 

P. Gr. Away ! away ! They 're thundering at the gate ; 
I hear the war-shout of Dunbar and Luvale — 
To the G-arden-Port ! else shall we all to-morrow, 
Wag on the Inch for earrings to the gallows. 

\_Exeunt hastily the conspirators. 



END OF ACT IV 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 223 



ACT y. 



A THOLE A NAREOW ANGLE OE POINT OF LAND AT THE 

JUNCTION OF THE EIVEES TUMMEL AND GAEEY ON ALL 

SIDES AEE DEEP WOODS, EISING IN AMPHITHEATEE, AND 
TEEMINATING EITHEE IN LOFTY PEAKS OE IN A BOLD EANGE 
OF NAKED EOCKS. 

[Enter Sir Robert Stewart and Thomas Chambers.) 

Stewart. The doe turned lioness ! It is a miracle 
Tliou tell'st me of. This timorous English, woman 
Started and swooned, chanced but a leaf to drop 
Or twitter on a tree, grown o' the sudden 
So fell an Amazon ! 

Chamh. As she inherited 

Her husband's spirit with her husband's saddle, 
She hunts his slayers to the death, and with 
A spirit royal and resolved as his 
When he pursued the slayers of his brother. 

Stewart. We should have flung our banner on the breeze. 
x\s Grraeme advised — proclaimed their deed as ours — 
A thing to glory at — rallied around us 



224 JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAJ^D- 

The friends of Albany, Stratherne, and Lennox — 

And all were malcontent — recited boldly 

The reasons ruled us in his taking off, 

And stood upon our rights. Throve we or no, 

That had been dared like men ! But thus like vermin, 

Hunted from hedge to hole ! I '11 tell thee what — 

There 's roomy bounds enough i' the Athole woods 

To play at hide-and-seek. But I 'm resolved 

To skulk no longer like a fox in furze. 

But face my foes in day. And come the worst 

'T is better dying in the bannered field 

With harness on my back, like one has under it 

The blood of Robert Bruce, than swing for show 

To a vile crowd at Edinboro' cross, 

Or have mine head hewed off with rusty hatchet 

On Stirling's Castle knowe. There is thy warrant — 

[Giving his rhig. 
Summon all followers of our house to meet me 
At Fascal-point on pain of death to-morrow, 
Before the sun has set. 

Chamb. Though their main chace 

Follow Lord Orkney and Sir Herbert Maxwell 
To the wilds of Mar after Sir Robert Grseme, 
I have not heard them name Luvale or Grray 
Among his hunters. Luvale is native here, 
No hole to hide in but he knows through Athole, 
Better than thou or I. And then to stir 
The devil in him, there is that oracle 
Thou wottest off. Here is a ford, and scant 
A bow-shot off, Tummel and Grarry meet — 
So till to-morrow keep thee close in cover. 
He may be prowling near. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 225 

Stewart. Would Heaven he were ! 

xiiicl stood before ine now ! For there be things 
This spot remembers me. That hazel copse 
Fringes a fairy semicircular nook. 
Fast by the Tummel's fall, where the coy shriek 
Of maiden squeamishness might pass unheard 
Amid the shoutings of the cataract — 
It hath a history. His buxom foster-sister, 
My rare love-spoil, 't was there he rescued her 
Perforce from me, disarmed, dishonoured me, 
Flung my snapped sword into the gulf, and bade mo 
Bless the kind luck endowed my ruffian's veins 
With Bruce "s blood, else had he flung myself. 

In these woods, too — the da}^ be cursed ! — it was 
The chance befel raised him, this peasant slave, 
To be the minion of a court, to beard me, 
And do me deadlier wrong. He robbed me. Chambers, 
Robbed me of her, for whom I had refused 
The daughter of a king ! Oh ! were he here. 
With all his pedlar's pack of prophecies 
For whetstone to his sword— 
And all his fingers and his fords to boot — 

Chamb. (starting and looking 7^ound, then hastily drawiiKj 
his sword) — 
Be 't Heaven responds thy wish, or hell, — look there I 

(Enter suddenly from the Wood Sir Walt^ir Luvale and 
Sir Andrew Gtray.) 

Stewart. Ha ! like the devil invents thee oracles, 
Comest thou at naming of? 

Luvale. Robert of Atholo, 

Yield thee my prisoner ! 



ZZi) JAMES THE FIKST <)F SCUTLAM). 

iStewart. Thy prisoner ! 

And who, I pray thee, noble knight of air ! 
Commends me to thy worshipful jailorship? 

Luvale. God's law and man's, for that thou hast done 
treason. 

Stewart. Against Sir Walter Luvale of that Ilk, 
And the dame Catherine Douglas, his fair lady, 
Who lacks an arm as he exceeds a finger — 
It makes the tally even, 

Luvale. Thou heartless villain ! 

Makest thou thy scoff at that, wert thou not fiend 
Had made thee worship her ? Traitor and coward ! 
That slender arm, so brittle and so brave. 
Performed the service had beseemed thine office 
And manhood to have done. She was before 
A woman, noble and young and beautiful. 
A king might love : now she is more — -a martyr, 
An angel saint for men to supplicate. 
To speed their suit to heaven ! 

Stewart. And so. Sir Bacheh>r. 

( )" th" Spartan order of the furnished finger.' 
The gentle filcher craft, to speed \\\j suit with her. 
Thy one-armed saint, this angel lacks a pinion. 
Thou 'dst drag me to her feet thy prisoner, 
To show how deftly her six-fingered knight. 
The devil hath clawed to do tlie catchpolc"s office. 
Thou many-fingered slave I lift thou but one of them 
x\gainst thy lawful king — 

Gray. Ah, well-a-day ! 

And is our royal grandsire then deceased, 
Walter the First, of famous memory ? 
His reio'ii mcthinks was brief. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. '22'< 

Stewart. Arede ye fellows, 

Ye deal not now with threescore years and ten, 
As my Lord Angus did, or fools have faith 
In freits and oracles, and man-grown monsters, 
And fields and fords, where roads or rivers meet. 

Luvale. In freits and oracles ! Needed an oracle 
Teach me to thread these woods, or find me ford 
Where roads or rivers meet, thou wert that oracle : — 
For, like a beast of prey, here hast thou hunted me 
In deadly chase, till through the bounds of Athole 
Was not a savage haunt, a cleft, or hole. 
Where woimded thing might bleed or burrow in, 
Kiver to ford or swim, ravine or precipice 
That might avail me on the pinch of need, 
But like the hounded fox I knew them all ! 
And this because I rescued from thy lust 
A shrieking mountain maid. And when a king, 
A generous king, my simple act of duty 
Repaid at royal over-rate, the life 
Thou dared'st not strike at openly, thou didst 
With scorn essay, and stinging mockeries. 
To make it burthen me. And, crowning all, 
Thy loving kinsman, and thy gracious King, 
Pampered thy life-long with his benefits. 
Chose thee his chamberlain, his chief familiar, 
His son-in-law, hadst thou but will'd it so, — 
When, like a pick-lock thief, him — thou he had trusted so, 
The keeper of his bower, — in bower unarmed, 
Betrayedst to crouching cowards, struck at him 
As dunghill curs worry a chained lion. 
That thou mightst steal his crown, — talk'st thou to me 
Of weirds, and fords, and bedlam oracles, 



!2!28 JAMES THE FIRST OF SC0T1>A.\D. 

xVnd count of fingers over complement, 
The hazy hatchings of distemper ature, 
As if they needed me to find, or found 
To drag thee to thy doom ! 

Gray [to CnAMBEPtS). And thou, good rascal. 

Companion of the same right hangable order ! 
I pray thee let thy tool have holiday 
Till these have played their play — or by the rood ! 
Thy womb shall scabbard this. Some ancient scores 
They have to settle that concern not us. 
And now, Luvale ! now — 
I will not baulk thee of thine heart's desire — 
I will not cumber thee with needless help ; 
The prayer I 've heard thee pray an hundred times. 
Behold it granted ! on the firm sward of Athole 
Thou hast him foot to foot. So man with man 
Your battle's wager, wage ye to the outrance, 
And Heaven uphold the right ! This cur, I "11 muzzle him. 

(Luvale and Stewart fight. After a desperate combat, 
Stewart falls to the ground wounded^ his sword strucJ: 
out of his hand.) 

Stewart [to Ltjvale). Take my life, fellow ! for I scorn to 
hold it 
On fee from such as thou. 

Luvale. Thou art my prisoner ; 

But for thy life I may not take me it — 
That is a sacrifice. It needs an altar — 
The judge for priest, for it is due thy countr}". 

Stewart. Yet tremble, traitors ! our avenger lives. 
Graeme is at large. 

Gray. Then, an" he be at large, 



JAMES THE FiKST OJb' ISCOTLAIND. li29 

It must be dangling over Stirling bridge : 
For, thanks to Duncanson and John Grorm Stewart 
Took them in Mar, father and son are prisoners 
To my Lord Orkney and Sir Herbert Maxwell, 
As fast as thou to us. 

Ste/wart. Can the devil prophesy 

Falsehood, yet fate ! mocking alike with contraries. 
The scoffer scorned him, and the dotard trusts — 
Belief and unbelief? So much for oracles. 
Show truth by halves only to bait damnation — 
So sports the sophist fiend with all who serve him ! 

Gray. Nay, there thou wrong'st thy friend. He spake 
true oracles — 
Thou didst his work, but wouldst not take his warning — 
l^oltiug the boon, and boggling the condition. 
For that like wayward and forbidden child, 
Thou wouldst be trespassing where rivers meet, 
And tempting fords, where men grown monsters haunt. 
Hence comes thy weird. For " Cross thou but this ford, 
No Athole Stewart shall be Athole's lord." 
'Tis w^ell, our Rubicon's not drowning deep — 
To give thy devil his due, he riddled honestly. 

(Blows Jus bugle. Enter a party of armed men.) 
Hand-gyve and horse, for the Queen's prisoners ! 
Then, ho ! for Holp'ood. 

[ExeifM Stewart and Chambers guarded. 



'2W JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 



EDIjN'BURGH castle THE COUXOIL HALL. 

( T//e Cha)icellor, Sir William Cjiiciiton, seated at the council- 
table^ surrounded by the Earls of Dotx^las, Angus, 
Orkney, Sir Alexander Livingston, Sir Gtilbert Hay, 
Sir Walter Ogilyy, and other Lords of the Coundl. At 
the bar^ as prisoners, the Earl of Athole, Sir Robert 
GR.5i;ME, Sir John Hall, Patrick Gtr^me, Thomas 
Hall, Thomas Chambers, and Cahoun. In the back- 
ground^ a dense crowd of spectators. A clerk at the table 
has just finished reading a pajoer.) 

Athole. A crown of iron ! — on these hoary locks ! 
To murder mockery ! 

Crichtoji. "Twas thine ambition 

To dying wear a crown — the hope that hearted thee 
To truck with oracles and damned deeds, 
(Connive to damned ends. 'Twill teach the lookers-on 
How keeps the devil troth with them that trust him. 

Thy doom must needs confess 't, Sir Robert Grteme, 
It is a terrible. Rut monster crimes 
Rring monstrous reckoning, treason and tragedied 
With a f(^ul murder. 

Gr. I confess to neither ; 

There was no treason, nor no murder in 't. 
He was no kini>; of nn'ne. I did disown him 



JAMES THE ElKST Ob' SCOTLAND. 231 

By letters openly, iis ye wot all. 

Sealed with my seal of arms, defying him 

To slay me or be slain. As he did me. 

So did I outlaw him. He hunted me — 

I waylaid him. 'T was life for life between us, 

And he began the fray. I have but slain 

God's creature was mine enemy, as he 

Would have slain me. Had he been winner, tell me, - 

Time-serving tools to this kin-slaying tyrant, 

Would ye have righted me. taken his life 

In quits for taking mine, or doomed the tortures 

Against the laws of Scotland and (»f nature 

Ye have decreed on me ? JMy flesh may falter, 

And pain may trap my tongue to blasphemy ; 

But I appeal the Judge will judge us all. 

It was my frenzy not myself blasphemed. 

And ye compelled the sin. 

For you, vile many (7o tlie crowd 
of spectators) 
Have hooted Robert Graeme, and hunted him 
As ye would hound was mad. and who will troop 
To look upon his dying, and will count 
Each start or shriek as the hot iron hisses, . 
Or the fell pincer fangs some nicer part. 
Gazing upon his agony as ye 
Would on a show shuts up a holiday — 
The day will come when barefoot to his tomb 
Ye '11 flock for pilgrimage— do penance there. 
And pray for his soul's rest. And when they speak 
0' winter nights around the ingle's blaze. 
Of Scotland's worthies, of the brave Macdufl", 
Slew that usurper king at Dunsinane — 



282 JAMES THE FIK8T OF SCOTLAND. 

And William Wallace with his right arm red 

With blood of Heselrig, and Hobert Bruce 

Smote the false Comyn at the altar's foot — 

Then will they speak of Robert G-rasme, and match 

His deed's renov/n with theirs — 

A feller tyrant T have slain than they, 

Had pity never upon sib or freme. 

The deed is done. I have received my doom. 

And were that deed to do. that doom foreknown, 

I 'd do the deed again. 

The two Halls. And so would we. 

Athole. For me, while lives my grandson, Robert Stewart, 
I will not falter in my faith, that Heaven 
Foreseeth all things, and foreshoweth many. 
As seen of late to strike the doubters dumb-^ 
The half-accomplished will accomplish all. 

(Shouting heard outside.' Enter an Officer^) 

Crich. What means that shout ? 

Officer. On the hill-tops to north. 

From the Weets of Baiglie on to Arthur's Seat, 
Lights answer lights, a stream of beacons blazing. 
Announces tidings. 

Crich. Haste inform her Highness 

That the last traitor 's ta'en, Sir Robert Stewart : — 
It is the signal was agreed upon. 
How fares thy faith, my Lord of Athole, now ? 

Athole. be the}^ calendared the devil's priostho(td 
Invent these oracles — their dupes for dotards 
Swallow for gospel what the fiend indites ! 
His truths come never in the trower's sense, 
In nothing real, but the deed of sin 
They damn the doer by. 



JAMES THE FIRST OF SCOTLAND. 233 

Angus. Scotland's First James, 

Her glory and her shame ! never had king 
Kinsmen more treacherous, and never king 
Had trustier, truer friends. We have avenged thee 
With swords were consecrate in thy brave blood — 
And now one terrible act of justice done, 
Scotland, though sad, may raise her loyal shout, 
Grod save our king, the Second James of Scotland ! 



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